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The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 


JOSEPH  JEFFERSON  AS  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

See  page  327 


Frontispiece 


THE  ROMANCE 

OF  THE 

AMERICAN  THEATRE 


BY 

MARY   CAROLINE   CRAWFORD 

Author  of  "Old  Boston  Days  and  Ways," 
"  Romantic  Days  in  the  Early  Republic,"  etc. 


Illustrated 


BOSTON 
LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY 

1913 


Copyright,  191S, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 

All  rights  reserved 


Published,  October,  1913 


THE  COLONIAL  PRESS 
C.  H.  SIMONDS  &  CO.,  BOSTON,  U.  8.  A. 


FOREWORD 


THERE  exists  no  complete  history  of  the  American 
theatre.  William  Dunlap,  in  1832,  put  out  what  he 
called  a  history  of  the  American  theatre;  but  1832  was 
more  than  eighty  years  ago,  and  Dunlap 's  history, 
though  honest  in  intent,  was  far  from  accurate  in  con- 
tent. Some  thirty  years  ago  George  Seilhamer  began 
to  give  to  the  world  what  promised  to  be  an  authentic 
history  of  the  American  theatre,  the  sources  of  infor- 
mation which  he  used  being  chiefly  the  files  of  Colonial 
and  Revolutionary  newspapers;  three  volumes  had 
been  issued  and  the  story  brought  up  to  1800  when  Mr. 
Seilhamer  died.  No  soul  yet  has  been  found  brave 
enough  to  take  up  this  task  where  it  was  then  laid  down. 
Brander  Matthews,  Lawrence  Hutton,  William  Winter 
and,  more  recently,  Montrose  Moses  have,  however, 
made  noteworthy  contributions  to  the  literature  of  this 
subject  and  to  them,  as  to  Seilhamer,  Dunlap,  and  many 
others  the  present  volume  is  deeply  indebted. 

One  reason  why  the  theatre  in  America  has  failed  to 
receive  adequate  historical  treatment  is  because  little 
or  no  care  had  been  given  to  the  preservation  and  con- 
servation of  theatrical  records.  Of  collectors  along  this 


4 1C 191 


Foreword 

line  there  have  been  many,  but  to  collectors,  as  to  the 
rest  of  us,  death  comes  inevitably;  and  then  the  intelli- 
gent hoardings  of  a  lifetime  are  likely  to  be  ruthlessly 
scattered.  So  it  was  with  Augustin  Daly's  priceless 
collection  and  so  it  has  been  with  nearly  every  other. 
Only  Allan  A.  Brown  of  Boston,  Massachusetts,  seems 
to  have  appreciated  the  enormous  help  which  a  rich 
theatrical  collection  might  prove  to  research  workers  if 
deposited  in  a  central  place  and  made  immediately  ac- 
cessible. His  collection  is  now  in  the  Boston  Public 
Library,  where  I  have  been  permitted  to  use  it  while  it 
was  undergoing  the  process  of  cataloguing;  for  accord- 
ing me  that  privilege  the  curators  of  the  library  have 
my  warm  thanks  as  does,  also,  Charles  Knowles  Bolton 
of  the  Boston  Athenaeum.  To  the  J.  B.  Lippincott  Com- 
pany, the  Houghton  MifHin  Company,  to  Moffatt,  Yard 
and  Company,  to  the  Macmillan  Company,  who  brought 
out  Modjeska's  memoirs,  and  to  the  publishers  of 
the  ^autobiographies  of  Madame  Ristori,  Ellen  Terry 
and  Tommaso  Salvini  my  gratitude  is  also  due,  chiefly 
for  quotation  privileges  more  specifically  indicated  in 
the  body  of  the  book;  there  will  be  found  also,  men- 
tion of  many  other  sources  of  information  to  which  I 
am  glad  to  give  credit. 

And  now  a  word  or  two  concerning  the  method  I  have 
followed.  Since  even  so  eclectic  a  historical  survey  as 
the  one  here  presented  could  not  be  contemporary  in 
treatment  the  fairest  way  to  approach  the  development 
of  the  American  theatre  seemed  to  me  to  be  from  the 
standpoint  of  dominant  personalities  and  general  ten- 

vi 


Foreword 

dencies.  This  was  also  the  natural  method  for  the 
reason  that,  for  many  years,  the  actors  were  the  theatre,  x^ 
Conditions  of  American  life  being  primitive,  too,  at 
the  beginning,  there  was,  necessarily,  a  great  deal  of 
colour  and  movement  bound  up  in  the  very  practice  of 
the  actor's  profession.  Even  to-day  "  going  on  the 
stage  "  is  regarded  as  something  of  an  adventure.  How 
much  more  full  of  romantic  possibilities  must,  therefore, 
have  been  the  actor's  career  in  an  age  when  there  were 
no  railroads  or  telegraph  lines,  no  theatrical  agencies  on 
Broadway,  and  when  only  a  few  large  cities  had  regu- 
larly established  theatres.  Then  to  enter  upon  this 
field  of  work  was  literally  to  start  exploring  a  wild  and 
hazardous  country.  The  chance  of  success  was  a  des- 
perate one  in  earlier  times,  and  the  weary  probation, 
with  its  long  delays  and  hardships,  was  calculated  to  dis- 
hearten all  but  the  strongest  souls.  Yet  many  there 
were  —  brave  men  and  plucky  women  —  who  dared  all 
this  for  the  sake  of  the  work  they  loved;  I  hope  this  book 
may  bring  freshly  to  mind  the  names  and  the  merits  of 
several  such. 

TheTgreatest  neec^  °f  ^e  American  theatre,  to-day,  is 
for  intelligent,  high-minded  actors  recruited  from  the 
ranks  of  the  rising  generation.  Playwrights  of  this 
stamp  we  now  have  —  thanks  very  largely,  I  think,  to 
the  inspiring  courses  on  The  Technique  Of  The  Drama 
given  by  Professor  George  Pierce  Baker  at  Harvard 
University.  But  it  must  be  evident  to  every  thoughtful 
person  that  nobility  of  soul  is  well-nigh  indispensable  in 
a  player  who  is  to  interpret  adequately  life's  great  emo- 

vii 


Foreword 

tions.  That  celebrated  English  actress,  who  had  gener- 
ously undertaken  to  train  a  beginner  in  the  role  of  a 
princess  neglected  by  the  man  she  loved,  was  justified 
in  feeling  absolute  discouragement  when  to  her  impulsive 
exclamation:  "  Suppose  the  emotion  real;  how  would  you 
act  if  slighted  by  the  man  you  devotedly  loved?  "  there 
came  the  languid  reply:  "  I  should  get  another  lover 
as  quickly  as  I  could."  A  girl  of  Anglo-Saxon  stock  pos- 
sessing such  a  fatal  defect  of  nature  as  this  could,  of 
course,  give  nothing  of  value  to  the  world,  and  this  real 
actress,  who  was  also,  a  real  woman,  had  the  sense  to 
know  it  at  once.  All  the  great  American  actresses  have 
been  real  women;  and  of  Edwin  Booth  and  Joseph  Jef- 
ferson among  the  men,  it  might  certainly  be  said  that 
they  were  sans  peur  et  sans  reproche.  Americans  who 
love  the  theatre  should  see  to  it  that  the  memory  of 
players  of  this  character  is  kept  green,  and  that  their 
private  virtues  as  well  as  their  stage  triumphs  are  ex- 
tolled. The  profession  of  the  player  should  be  recog- 
nized as  a  noble  and  worthy  one  in  America  as  it  has 
come  to  be  in  England.  Then  we  shall  again  have 
players  of  high  character  on  our  stage;  then  —  and  not 
until  then  —  will  the  hardy  products  of  our  social- 
minded  young  playwrights  make  of  the  American  theatre 
the  force  for  real  Democracy  that  it  must  ultimately 
become. 

M.  C.  C. 
Boston,  August,  1913. 


VUl 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

xT^SForeword v 

\wl.    Players   and   Playhouses   of   the   Eighteenth 

Century ! 

*-*"il.    Early  Ups  and  Downs  of  the  Theatre  in  the 

v      South  .  44 

[/III.    Rise  of  the  Theatre  as  an  American  Institu- 
tion       80 

IV.    The   Curious   Adventures   of   Certain   Early 

English  Stars 118 

V.    The  Entertaining  Observations  of  the  First 

Charles  Ma  thews 142 

VI.    Two    Great    English    Tragedians    whom    we 

Welcomed  Gladly 159 

VII.     £dwiEJl2£££st  as  Actor  and  Man    .        .        .     173 
VIII.    A  Player  who  Inspired  a  Song  and  Another 

who  Composed  One 210 

IK.    Forrest's  Enemy,  Macready,  and  Some  Stars 

who  Came  after  Him 226 

Early  Nineteenth  Century  Audiences     .       .250 

XI.     Rachel  and  Fechter 266 

XII.    Visiting  Stars  of  a  Later  Day  .       .       .       .286 
.XIII.     Edwin  Booth:   "  Hope  of  the  Living  Drama  "     310 

IX 


»-o 

CHAPTBIT-  '  '  —  PAGE 


>_ 

(  XIV.    j}ome  of  Booth's  more  Distinguished  Contem- 
poraries       327 

XV.    The  Theatres  of  New  York  and  the  Drama 

of  To-day 355 

Index  4oi 


LIST  OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


Joseph  Jefferson  as  Rip  Van  Winkle Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

Nance  Oldfield 8 

Peg  Woffington 9 

David  Garrick  and  His  Wife 16 

From  the  painting  by  Hogarth 

Oldest  Known  American  Playbill 17 

The  French  Opera  House,  NewOrleans,  Erected  in  1860  70 

"  Perdita  "  Robinson 71 

From  the  painting  by  Romney 

Drury  Lane  Theatre,  London 80 

John  Gilbert  as  Sir  Peter  Teazle 81 

A  Scene  from  "  The  Contrast  " 94 

From  a  drawing  by  Dunlap 
Interior  of  the  first  Park  Theatre,  New  York,  Built  in 

1798 95 

Chestnut  Street  Theatre,  Philadelphia,  about  1800  ...  95 

Federal  Street  Theatre,  Boston 114 

Haymarket  Theatre,  Boston 115 

Three  Great  Richards 128 

Edmund  Kean  as  Othello 1 29 

After  a  drawing  from  life  by  John  William  Gear 
A  "  First  Night  "  at  the  second  Park  Theatre,  New 
York,  in  1822.      The  elder  Charles  Mathews  is 

shown  on  the  stage 144 

From  a  water-color  drawing  made  by  John  Searle  for  William 
Bayard,  Esq.,  in  the  possession  of  the  New  York  Historical 
Society 

xi 


List  of  Illustrations 

FACING  PAGE 

Exterior  of  the  Park  Theatre,  New  York 145 

From  a  drawing  by  C.  Burton 

William  Augustus  Conway 160 

Thomas  Abthorpe  Cooper 161 

Edwin  Forrest 192 

From  a  photograph  by  Brady 

William  C.  Macready  as  Shylock 193 

Edwin  Forrest  as  King  Lear 206 

Guests  of  the  Forrest  Home.  Photographed  by  the 
Philadelphia  Press  on  Forrest's  birthday  anniver- 
sary, 1913 207 

John  Howard  Payne 224 

After  a  daguerreotype  by  Brady 

Mrs.  John  Drew  as  Mrs.  Malaprop 225 

The  Mother  of  Edgar  Allan  Poe 225 

William  C.  Macready 228 

Fanny  Ellsler 229 

From  a  drawing  by  W.  K.  Hewitt 
Master  Joseph  Burke 229 

After  a  drawing  by  T.  Wageman 

Frances  Anne  Kemble 234 

From  the  painting  by  Thomas  Sully,  made  in  '832,  in  the 
possession  of  the  Boston  Museum  of  Fine  Arts 

Mrs.  Siddons  as  Lady  Macbeth 235 

After  the  painting  by  Harlow 

John  Philip  Kemble  as  Hamlet 235 

After  the  painting  by  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence 

Madame  Vestris  as  Olivia  in  "  John  of  Paris  " 248 

Lotta  as  The  Marchioness 248 

Maggie  Mitchell  as  Fanchon 249 

Tyrone  Power 254 

After  a  drawing  by  D'Orsay 

Old  National  Theatre,  Portland  Street,  Boston 255 

Howaud  Athenaeum,  about  1865 255 

Rachel 278 

After  the  painting  by  G.  H.  Lehmann 

xii 


List  of  Illustrations 


FACING  PAGE 


Rachel  as  Phedre 279 

Fechter  as  Hamlet 279 

Adelaide  Ristori  as  Mary  Queen  of  Scots 290 

Tommaso  Salvini  as  Othello 291 

Alia  Nazimova 294 

Richard  Mansfield  as  Cyrano  de  Bergerac 295 

Modjeska  as  Rosalind 298 

Modjeska  as  Queen  Mary 299 

Sir  Henry  Irving 306 

Ellen  Terry  as  Portia 307 

Ellen  Terry  as  Marguerite 312 

Sir  Johnston  Forbes-Robertson  as  Hamlet 313 

Edwin  Booth  as  Hamlet 318 

John  Wilkes  Booth 319 

Edwin  Booth 324 

The  "  Royal  Couch  of  Denmark  " 325 

E.  A.  Sothern  as  Lord  Dundreary 334 

Matilda  Heron 334 

E.  L.  Davenport,  the  elder 335 

Fanny  Davenport 335 

Charlotte  Cushman 344 

Mary  Anderson 344 

Mrs.  de  Navarro  (Mary  Anderson) 345 

Lawrence  Barrett 348 

John  Drew,  the  elder,  as  Sir  Andrew  Ague-Cheek 349 

Dion  Boucicault  as  Con  in  "  The  Shaughraun  " 370 

James  W.  Wallack 371 

From  the  portrait  in  the  Players'  Club,  New  York 

The  Wallack  Company  of  1863 374 

Lester  Wallack  as  Benedick 375 

Ada  Rehan  in  "  Taming  of  the  Shrew  " 380 

Adelaide  Neilson  in  "  Romeo  and  Juliet  " 380 

xiii 


List  of  Illustrations 

FACING  PAGE 

The  Daly  Company  in  1884 381 

Denman  Thompson  as  Joshua  Whitcomb  in  "  The  Old 

Homestead  " 384 

W.  E.  Burton  as  Autolycus 385 

Henry  and  Thomas  Placide  as  the  Two  Dromios  . . .  385 


xiv 


THE 

ROMANCE    OF   THE  AMERICAN 
THEATRE 


CHAPTER   I 

PLAYERS   AND   PLAYHOUSES   OF    THE    EIGHTEENTH 
CENTURY 

"  LAST  week  I  buried  Mrs.  Nance  Oldfield  very 
willingly  and  with  much  satisfaction."  It  was  in  these 
somewhat  equivocal  words  that  the  Reverend  Dr. 
Parker  of  the  Established  Church  recorded  his  relation 
to  the  then  recent  obsequies  of  England's  best-beloved 
actress.  Nance  Oldfield  was  not  a  virtuous  woman  as 
we  of  to-day  count  virtue,  yet  Queen  Caroline  was  on 
intimate  and  friendly  terms  with  her.  Nance  Oldfield 
had  no  proper  social  standing,  as  do  many  of  our  pres- 
ent-day actresses,  yet  on  the  terrace  at  Windsor  she 
was  often  to  be  seen  walking  with  the  respectable  con- 
sorts of  dukes  and  calling  countesses  and  the  wives  of 
English  barons  by  their  Christian  names.  Moreover, 
when  Nance  Oldfield  died,  she  received,  by  burial 

i 


f  the  American  Theatre 

within  the  walls  of  Westminster  Abbey,  such  honour 
as  no  actress  had  ever  received  before  nor  has  been  ac- 
corded since.1  The  public  could  not  have  thronged 
more  eagerly  to  her  funeral  had  she  been  a  real  queen 
instead  of  a  mimic  one,  nor  could  she  have  had  men  of 
greater  distinction  for  her  pall-bearers.  All  of  which  is 
of  interest  to  us,  as  showing  that  in  England  of  the  eight- 
eenth century  a  great  actress  —  who  chanced  to  be 
also  a  lovable  woman  —  was  not  held  too  closely  to  ac- 
count for  little  lapses  from  the  standard  of  Caesar's 
wife. 

Nance  Oldfield's  father  had  been  a  gentleman,  but 
she  was  the  humble  apprentice  of  a  seamstress  when 
Captain  Farquhar,  a  London  man-about- town,  dis- 
covered her  at  her  aunt's  inn,  on  a  quiet  summer  evening 
late  in  the  seventeenth  century,  reading  aloud  to  her 
mother  from  a  rattling  comedy  of  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher.  The  smart  captain  promptly  assured  the 
girl  that  she  was  a  born  actress,  and  she  as  promptly 
retorted,  amid  blushes  of  delight,  that  to  go  upon  the 
stage  had  long  been  the  dream  of  her  life.  Then  Far- 
quhar talked  of  her  to  a  friend  who  had  the  ear  of  Rich, 
the  famous  manager,  and  soon  she  found  herself  a  mem- 
ber of  the  company  at  Drury  Lane,  with  an  assured 
salary  of  fifteen  shillings  a  week.  Four  years  later 
(1696)  Colley  Cibber  himself  assigned  to  her  the  role  of 

1  The  custodian  of  the  Abbey  informs  me,  however,  that  Mrs.  Gar- 
rick,  who  was  a  dancer  before  her  marriage,  lies  in  the  south  transept 
with  her  husband  and  that  in  the  Abbey  cloisters  no  less  than  three 
actresses  are  buried:  Mrs.  Betterton,  wife  of  Thomas  Betterton  of 
Drury  Lane  Theatre,  Mrs.  Bracegirdle  (d.  1748),  and  Ann  Crawford 
(d.  1801). 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Lady  Betty  Modish  in  his  "  Careless  Husband,"  and 
for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  English  stage  the 
part  of  a  lady  of  fashion  was  appropriately  played. 

It  was  then  not  so  very  long  since  women  were  a 
startling  novelty  on  the  English-speaking  stage.  The 
female  parts  were  always  taken  by  boys  until  after  the 
Restoration,  credit  being  due  to  Sir  William  Davenant  for 
opening  to  women,  in  1662,  the  economic  opportunity 
represented  by  the  profession  of  the  actor.  The  place 
which  marked  this  interesting  development  was  Sir 
William's  Theatre  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  and  the 
"  vehicle  "  employed,  a  drama  called  the  "  Siege  of 
Rhodes,"  in  which  Mrs.  Saunderson,  as  "  the  first  fe- 
male actress  that  ever  played  for  hire  before  the  public 
in  England,"  took  the  part  of  the  heroine.  That  the 
public  was  by  no  means  of  one  mind  concerning  this 
innovation  is  very  clear  from  various  comments  to  be 
found  in  the  books  of  the  period.  Tom  Nash  in  his 
"  Pierce  Penilesse "  highly  commends  the  English 
stage  in  that  it  has  not  had  "  courtesans  or  women  act- 
ors "  such  as  were  then  to  be  found  abroad.  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  there  are  extant  the  ravings  of  a  certain 
Dr.  Reynolds,  who  had  published  in  1593  a  foaming  in- 
vective against  stage  plays,  one  reason  for  his  objections 
being  that  the  boys  who  wore  the  dress  of  women  on 
the  stage  were  wont  to  ape  the  airs  of  women  off  the 
stage. 

A  classic  case  which  is  often  cited  in  this  connection 
is  that  of  Edward  Kynaston,  the  last  beautiful  youth 
who  figured  in  petticoats  on  the  stage.  Colley  Gibber 

3 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

relates  that  Kynaston  was  still  playing  the  woman  — 
both  off  the  stage  and  on  —  even  after  King  Charles 
II  had  begun  to  lend  his  royal  support  to  the  theatre. 
Once,  he  tells  us,  his  Majesty,  "  coming  a  little  before 
the  usual  time  to  a  tragedy,  became  impatient  that  the 
play  did  not  at  once  begin.  Whereupon  the  stage 
manager,  rightly  judging  that  the  best  excuse  for  their 
default  would  be  the  true  one,  fairly  told  his  Majesty 
that  the  queen  was  not  shaved  yet.  The  King,  whose 
good  humour  loved  to  laugh  at  a  jest  as  well  as  to  make 
one,  accepted  the  excuse,  which  served  to  divert  him 
until  the  male  queen  could  be  effeminated.  In  a  word, 
Kynaston  at  that  time  was  so  beautiful  a  youth  that 
the  ladies  of  quality  prided  themselves  on  taking  him 
with  them  in  their  coaches  to  Hyde  Park  in  his  theatrical 
habit,  after  the  play;  which,  in  those  days,  they  might 
have  sufficient  time  to  do,  because  the  plays  then  were 
used  to  begin  at  four  o'clock." 

The  real  reason  why  women  were  given  parts  in 
the  plays  of  the  Restoration  period  seems  to  have  been 
not  a  moral  one  at  all,  however,  but  was  attributable, 
as  Disraeli  hints,  to  the  fact  that  "  the  boys  who  had 
been  trained  to  act  female  characters  before  the  Resto- 
ration had  grown  too  masculine  during  the  suspension  of 
the  theatre  to  resume  their  tender  office."  In  any  case, 
women  were  now  on  the  stage  to  stay,  and  it  was  in 
large  measure  due  to  their  presence  there  that  the  ob- 
scenity of  the  early  English  comedies  gradually  became 
unacceptable  to  the  public. 

A  beautiful  girl,  like  Nance  Oldfield,  playing  with 

4 


The  Romance  of  the.  American  Theatre 

spirit  yet  without  exaggeration  the  part  of  a  clever, 
high-mettled  woman,  was  a  distinct  novelty,  therefore. 
"  Who  should  act  genteel  comedy  perfectly,"  asks 
Walpole,  "  but  people  of  fashion  who  have  sense? 
Actors  and  actresses  can  only  guess  at  the  tone  of  high 
life,  and  cannot  be  inspired  with  it.  Why  are  there  so 
few  genteel  comedies,  but  because  most  comedies  are 
written  by  men  not  of  that  sphere.  Etherege,  Congreve, 
Vanbrugh,  and  Gibber  wrote  genteel  comedy  because 
they  lived  in  the  best  company;  and  Mrs.  Oldfield 
played  it  so  well  because  she  not  only  followed  but  often 
set  the  fashion." 

Gibber  had  despaired,  indeed,  of  ever  finding  an 
actress  who  could  realize  his  idea  of  Lady  Betty  Modish, 
when  good  fortune  threw  Nance  Oldfield  in  his  way. 
Then  he  no  longer  had  any  qualms  but  finished  the  piece 
at  once.  When  he  brought  it  out,  he  had  the  almost 
unprecedented  generosity  to  declare  that  he  owed  the 
success  of  the  play  wholly  to  the  gay  and  brilliant  girl 
who  was  cast  for  its  leading  part.  "  And  not  only  to 
the  uncommon  excellence  of  her  acting,"  as  he  explained, 
"  but  even  to  her  personal  manner  of  conversing." 
Many  of  the  most  effective  sentiments  in  the  play,  he 
insisted,  were  Mrs.  Oldfield 's  own,  simply  dressed  up 
by  him  "  with  a  little  more  care  than  when  they  negli- 
gently fell  from  her  lively  humour." 

As  time  passed,  Nance  Oldfield  became  the  original 
creator  of  no  less  than  sixty-five  comedy  characters. 
Her  salary  at  the  height  of  her  career  reached  three 
hundred  guineas,  exclusive  of  benefits,  on  which  occa- 

5 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

sions  gold  was  fairly  showered  into  her  lap.  Tragedy 
parts,  too,  she  played  with  pronounced  success,  though 
she  never  enjoyed  these  so  much,  hating,  as  she  often 
said,  to  "  have  a  page  dragging  her  tail  about."  In 
private  life,  as  well,  she  was  averse  to  the  role  of  tragedy 
queen,  accepting  quite  simply  the  affection  offered  her 
by  Maynwaring,  a  rich  bachelor  connected  with  the 
government,  and  comforting  herself  quite  as  simply 
with  General  Churchill,  brother  of  the  Duke  of  Marl- 
borough,  when  Maynwaring  died.  In  this  latter  con- 
nection marriage  appears  to  have  been  at  least  thought 
of,  thus  causing  Queen  Caroline  one  day  to  remark  to  the 
actress:  "  I  hear,  Mrs.  Oldfield,  that  you  and  the  Gen- 
eral are  married?  "  To  which  there  came  from  Nance 
the  dry  retort:  "  Madam,  the  General  keeps  his  own 
secrets!  "  Yet  society  never  rejected  this  its  favourite, 
and  her  sons,  Maynwaring  and  Churchill,  to  whom  she 
bequeathed  the  bulk  of  a  fortune  —  amassed,  it  is  in- 
teresting to  note,  more  by  their  mother's  exertions 
than  by  any  generosity  of  their  respective  fathers - 
mourned  her  earnestly  and  openly  when  she  died.  The 
distinction  between  Nance  Oldfield's  love  affairs  and 
those  of  certain  well-known  actresses  who  had  preceded 
her  appears  to  have  been  that  they  were  founded  on 
sentiment,  not  on  interest,  and  society  was  not  slow 
in  making  the  distinction.  Moreover,  there  was  none 
of  that  tittle-tattle  concerning  this  actress's  relations 
with  the  gallants  behind  the  scenes  l  that  we  find  earlier 

•  l  She  used  to  go  to  the  playhouse  in  a  chair  attended  by  two  foot- 
men, and  she  had  little  or  nothing  to  do  with  the  others  of  the  company 
and  their  followers. 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

in  regard  to  Nell  Gwyn  and  later  with  Peg  Woffington 
as  its  heroine. 

The  delectable  "  Diary  "  of  Pepys  is  full  of  snap-shots 
of  the  theatre  in  the  seventeenth  century.  From  few 
other  sources,  indeed,  can  we  obtain  such  choice  bits 
of  information  regarding  the  manners  and  customs  of 
that  day,  both  before  and  behind  the  curtain.  Early  in 
January,  1663,  when  the  Duke  of  York  and  his  wife 
honoured  a  play  of  Killigrew's  by  their  presence,  Pepys 
writes  himself  down  as  much  shocked  by  "  the  imperti- 
nent and  unnatural  dalliances  "  of  the  royal  pair,  "  there 
before  the  whole  world,  kissing  of  hands  and  leaning 
one  upon  another."  How  differently  did  Cromwell's 
daughter,  Lady  Mary,  conduct  herself  in  her  box  at 
Drury  Lane  with  her  husband,  Viscount  Falconbridge! 
The  looks  and  dress  of  this  lady  elicit  only  praise  from 
Pepys.  "  Her  modest  embarrassment  as  the  house 
began  to  fill  and  spectators  gazed  too  steadily  upon 
her,  causing  her,"  he  writes  approvingly,  to  "  put  on  her 
vizard  .  .  .  which  of  late  has  become  a  great  fashion 
among  the  ladies." 

No  "  vizard,"  however,  was  allowed  to  conceal  the 
charms  of  Nell  Gwyn  when  she  gossiped  with  the  diarist. 
The  constant  presence  of  "  her  kind  "  in  the  front  of  the 
house  was  a  cherished  feature  of  the  times,  as  was  the 
invasion  of  the  green-room  by  the  gallants  of  the  day. 
Dr.  Doran,  whose  "  Annals  of  The  Stage "  present 
us  with  an  incomparable  description  of  theatrical  habits 
of  this  and  the  succeeding  century,  declares  that  the 
tiring-rooms  of  the  actresses  were  then  open  to  any  of 

7 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  fine  gentlemen  who  frequented  the  house.  "  They 
stood  by  at  the  mysteries  of  dressing,  and  commented 
upon  what  they  beheld  and  did  not  behold  with  such 
breadth  and  coarseness  of  wit,  that  the  more  modest 
or  least  impudent  ladies  sent  away  their  little  hand- 
maidens. The  dressing  over,  the  amateurs  lounged  into 
the  house,  talked  loudly  with  the  pretty  orange  girls, 
listened  when  it  suited  them,  and  at  the  termination 
of  the  piece,  crowded  again  into  the  tiring-rooms  of  the 
most  favourite  and  least  scrupulous  actresses.  The  wits 
loved  to  assemble,  too,  after  the  play  was  done,  in  the 
dressing-rooms  of  the  leading  actors  with  whom  they  most 
cared  to  cultivate  an  intimacy.  Much  company  often 
congregated  here,  generally  with  the  purpose  of  assigning 
meetings  where  further  enjoyment  might  be  pursued." 
The  curious  intimacy  between  the  great  world  and 
the  world  of  the  theatre  is  strikingly  illustrated  in  the 
fact  that  one  of  the  big  successes  of  the  early  eighteenth 
century  was  the  play  "  Jane  Shore,"  the  persecuted 
heroine  of  which  had  once  condescended  to  be  the  mis- 
tress of  King  Edward  IV.  This  work  contains  many 
moving  passages,  even  when  read  with  the  eye  of  to-day, 
and  its  last  act,  in  which  the  fair  Jane  is  shown  wandering 
from  door  to  door,  a  starving  victim  of  Gloster's  black 
revenge,  must  have  provided  magnificent  opportunities 
for  the  powers  of  a  gifted  actress.  Though  Nance  Old- 
field  did  not  like  to  play  tragic  parts,  this  character 
proved  a  great  triumph  for  her.  Rowe  *  himself  trained 

1  Nicholas  Rowe  was  a  politician  as  well  as  the  poet  laureate  of  Eng- 
land in  the  reign  of  George  I.    At  one  time  under-secretary  to  the 

8 


NANCE    OLDFIELD 

See  page  i 


PEG    WOFFINGTON 
See  page  Q 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

her  in  the  reading  of  it,  and  she  never  failed  to  move  her 
audience  to  tears  by  her  mimic  sufferings  and  sorrows. 
During  the  last  act,  bread  was  wont  to  be  thrown  down 
from  the  gallery  as  a  tribute  to  the  realism  of  her  hunger, 
and  no  attache  of  the  theatre  ever  interfered.  This  was 
a  slight  interruption  compared  to  a  riot,  or  to  that 
incident  recorded  by  Pepys  when  "  a  gentleman  of  good 
habit,  sitting  just  before  us,  eating  some  fruit  in  the 
midst  of  the  play,  did  drop  down  as  dead;  but,  with 
much  ado,  Orange  Moll  did  thrust  her  finger  down  his 
throat,  and  brought  him  to  life  again." 

The  ability  to  play  "  Jane  Shore  "  acceptably  re- 
mained for  several  generations  the  test  of  a  successful 
actress;  and  it  is  conceded  by  all  writers  of  the  period 
that  in  this  role  Peg  Wofnngton  "  did  not  admit  of 
competition  with  Mrs.  Oldfield."  *But  in  most  parts 
Peg  Woffington  shone  as  the  bright  particular  star  of 
the  eighteenth  century  stage.  Not  to  understand  her 
relation  to  the  players  and  plays  of  the  time  would  be  to 
fail  to  comprehend  the  hold  which  the  theatre  had  on 
Englishmen  of  that  day. 

Margaret  Wofnngton  and  David  Garrick!  What 
names  to  conjure  with,  though  here  we  may  not  do  more 
than  touch  very  briefly  on  their  romantic  personal 
histories,  merely  mention  in  passing  the  enduring '  im- 
petus that  they  gave  to  the  traditions  of  good  acting, 

Duke  of  Queensberry,  he  studied  Spanish  in  hope  of  obtaining  a  foreign 
appointment  through  Halifax.  The  latter,  however,  only  congratulated 
him  on  being  able  to  read  Don  Quixote  in  the  original!  "  Jane  Shore  " 
was  brought  out  February  2,  1714.  Its  author  died  in  December, 
1718,  and  was  buried  in  the  poets'  corner  of  Westminster  Abbey,  oppo- 
site Chaucer. 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

and  then  cross  the  stormy  seas  —  as  their  contempo- 
rary, Hallam,  was  soon  to  do  —  and  devote  ourselves 
to  the  somewhat  arid  history  of  the  early  theatres  in 
America. 

Peg  Woffington  made  her  stage  debut  about  1725  at 
a  variety  theatre  of  Dublin,  in  a  basket  carried  by 
Madame  Violante,  a  tight-rope  dancer,  as  she  made  her 
perilous  passage  across  the  stage  and  caused  delicious 
cold  shivers  to  run  down  the  spines  of  her  gaping  audi- 
tors. Peg  was  the  child  of  a  journeyman  bricklayer,  then 
dead,  and  of  a  vigorous  mother,  still  living.  The  mother 
took  in  washing  for  the  support  of  the  family.  Between 
the  fair  Margaret's  debut  and  a  later  day,  when  she 
actually  acted  for  Madame  Violante  in  a  Lilliputian 
troupe,  her  profession  was  that  of  selling  "  halfpenny 
salads  "  about  the  streets  of  Dublin.  Thus  she  found  it 
easy  to  play  hoyden  parts,  when  these  fell  to  her  lot. 
But,  being  a  natural-born  actress,  she  acquitted  herself 
with  no  less  success  as  Ophelia  when,  on  February  12, 
1734,  she  first  essayed  this  role  at  the  Dublin  Theatre 
Royal.  Though  only  fifteen  at  this  time,  Peg  is  affirmed 
to  have  been  well-grown  and  tall.  Already,  too,  she 
was  a  stunning  beauty,  with  splendid  dark  eyes  under 
strongly  marked  brows,  and  an  expression  of  archness 
which  was  well  set  off  by  her  unpowdered  hair  and  the 
lace  cap  or  flat  garden  hat  to  be  seen  in  her  numerous 
portraits.  Moreover,  she  had  in  some  way  or  other 
learned  to  bear  herself  like  a  lady,  and  could  use  a  fan 
with  great  dexterity,  or  make  in  most  impressive  fashion 
the  sweeping  courtesy  of  the  "  manners  "  comedy.  In 

10 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

addition  to  which  she  had  a  wit  equal  to  the  best  of 
the  gallants  who  flocked  to  her  tiring-room. 

It  was  Peg  Woffington's  wit  and  the  dash  with  which 
she  set  it  off  that  enabled  her  to  act  with  tremendous 
success  the  "  breeches  "  part  of  Sir  Harry  Wildair  in 
Farquhar's  "  Constant  Couple."  And  it  was  the  pro- 
digious drawing  power  of  Woffington  in  the  role  of  this 
lively  rake  which  gained  for  her  a  hearing  with  the  all- 
powerful  John  Rich  (1740),  then  manager  of  the  Covent 
Garden  in  London.1  That  season  she  played  Sir  Harry 
Wildair  no  fewer  than  twenty  times  and  always  to 
crowded  houses.  Which  meant  much  more  then  than 
it  would  now,  inasmuch  as  the  Londoners  of  that  day 
required  a  constantly  changing  bill,  theatre-going  at 
that  period  being  confined  to  a  comparatively  small 
section  of  the  population.  This  is  the  time  when  we 
find  Walpole  declaring  Peg  "  much  in  vogue,"  and 
Conway  asserting  that  "  all  the  town  is  in  love  with 
her." 

Yet  it  is  with  Drury  Lane  rather  than  with  Covent 
Garden  that  we  chiefly  associate  Peg  Woffington,  for 

1  A  writer  in  the  Dublin  Review  has  pictured  very  graphically  their 
first  meeting.  "  The  great  manager,  when  Woffington  first  saw  him, 
was  lolling  in  ungraceful  ease  on  a  sofa,  holding  a  play  in  one  hand  and 
in  the  other  a  teacup,  from  which  he  sipped  frequently.  Around  him 
were  seven  and  twenty  cats  of  all  sizes,  colours  and  kinds.  Peg  Woffing- 
ton was  astounded  at  the  sight.  Rich,  to  her  mind,  had  for  years  been 
the  greatest  man  in  the  world.  The  menagerie  of  grimalkins,  amid 
which  he  lay  so  carelessly,  was  so  different  an  environment  from  her  con- 
ception of  the  study  of  the  Covent  Garden  theatre-manager,  that  she 
was  embarrassed  into  silence.  Rich,  in  his  turn,  was  equally  confused 
by  the  beauty  of  his  visitor,  and  lay  staring  at  her  for  a  long  time  be- 
fore he  recollected  his  courtesy  and  offered  her  a  chair.  Standing  be- 
fore him  was  a  woman  whom  he  afterward  declared  to  be  the  loveliest 
creature  he  had  ever  seen." 

II 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

it  was  there  that  she  fell  in  with  David  Garrick,  then 
just  rising  to  fame.  Garrick's  boyhood  had  been  passed 
at  Lichfield,  where  his  mania  for  acting  had  seriously 
interfered  with  his  application  to  school  studies.  His 
father  (of  French  descent)  was  a  captain  in  the  English 
army,  who  had  married  the  daughter  of  a  Lichfield 
vicar.  Because  of  this  church  connection,  David's  stage 
mania  was  frowned  down  from  the  first.  It  was  consid- 
ered vastly  more  respectable  for  him  to  go  into  the  busi- 
ness of  wine-selling,  of  which  one  of  his  uncles  had  made 
a  great  success.  Yet  the  lad  was  not  starved  on  his  play- 
loving  side,  for  his  father's  friends,  knowing  his  passion 
for  the  theatre,  often  treated  him  to  a  journey  to  Lon- 
don on  purpose  that  he  might  feast  at  the  playhouse. 
Thus  the  lad  had  been  enabled  to  see  all  the  great 
players  of  the  time  from  the  gallery,  long  before  he 
had  the  opportunity  to  mingle  with  them  on  the 
stage. 

In  time,  however,  that  opportunity  came  also.  For, 
leaving  Lichfield  and  its  cramping  influences  behind 
him,  young  Garrick  set  out,  in  1737,  in  the  company 
of  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  who  had  been  his  tutor,  to  try 
his  fortune  in  the  great  city.  Garrick's  resources  were 
increased  about  this  time  by  the  death  of  an  uncle,  who 
bequeathed  to  him  a  thousand  pounds;  but  Johnson, 
who  had  only  his  tragedy  of  "  Irene  "  as  a  means  of  ad- 
vance, long  worshipped  comfort  from  afar.  Later, 
Garrick  was  able  to  produce  this  tragedy  for  his  old 
friend. 

David's  debut  on  the  professional  stage  was  made  in 

12 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  provinces  and  under  an  assumed  name.  His  first 
London  engagement  was  in  the  fall  of  1741  at  the  theatre 
in  unfashionable  Goodman's  Fields.  He  came  on  between 
two  parts  of  a  concert  in  what  the  playbills  announced 
as  "The  Life  and  Death  of  Richard  HI."  "Yet 
from  the  moment  the  new  actor  appeared,"  says  Doran, 
"  his  auditors  were  enthralled.  They  saw  a  Richard 
and  not  an  actor  of  that  personage.  Of  spectators 
he  seemed  unconscious,  so  thoroughly  did  he  identify 
himself  with  the  character.  He  surrendered  himself  to 
all  the  requirements,  was  ready  for  every  phase  of 
passion,  every  change  of  humour,  and  was  as  wonderful 
in  his  quiet  sarcasm  as  he  was  terrific  in  the  hurricane 
of  the  battle-scenes.  Above  all,  his  audiences  were 
delighted  with  his  '  nature.'  Garrick  spoke  not  as  an 
orator,  but  as  King  Richard  himself  might  have  spoken 
in  like  circumstances.  The  chuckling  exultation  of  his 
£  So  much  for  Buckingham!  '  was  long  a  tradition  on 
the  stage.  His  points,  indeed,  occurred  in  rapid  suc- 
cession." At  the  beginning  Garrick  drew  a  pound  a 
night  for  all  this,  but  soon  he  was  sharing  profits 
equally  with  the  management,  and  his  salary,  when 
he  went  to  Drury  Lane,  in  May,  1742,  was  fixed  at 
£600  per  annum. 

Garrick  was  twenty-six  at  this  time  and  Peg  Woffing- 
ton  two  years  younger.  Their  mutual  attraction  was 
inevitable.  He  had  not  been  a  month  at  Drury  Lane, 
playing  (among  other  things)  Lear  to  her  Cordelia, 
when  he  found  himself  deeply  in  love  with  the  Irish 
beauty  and  inditing  to  her  such  verses  as: 

13 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  Were  she  arrayed  in  rustic  weed, 
With  her  the  bleating  flocks  I'd  feed, 
And  pipe  upon  mine  oaten  reed 

To  please  my  lovely  Peggy. 
With  her  a  cottage  would  delight, 
All's  happy  when  she's  in  my  sight, 
But  when  she's  gone  'tis  endless  night  — 

All's  dark  without  my  Peggy." 

The  following  June  they  were  both  in  Dublin,  play- 
ing in  the  new  theatre  to  which  they  had  been  hastily 
summoned  by  the  manager  Duval,  to  counteract  the 
rival  attractions  at  the  Theatre  Royal  of  Colley  Gibber's 
daughter-in-law  and  of  that  admirable  actor,  Quin, 
who  figures  in  Charles  Reade's  novel,  "  Peg  Woffington." 
Their  success  was  so  enormous  —  and  the  sanitary 
conditions  of  the  time  so  vile  —  that  they  achieved  the 
doubtful  honour  of  spreading  an  epidemic,  christened  the 
"  Garrick  Fever,"  among  the  Dubliners  who  thronged 
to  see  them  act  during  that  sultry  summer.  It  was  at 
this  time  that  Nance  Oldfield's  famous  part,  Lady 
Betty  Modish,  was  added  to  the  Woffington  repertory. 

The  following  winter  found  the  two  brilliant  players 
back  in  London,  frankly  sharing  a  household  and  the 
expenses  thereof.  One  month  Peggy  paid  the  bills,  the 
other  month  Davy.  During  Peg's  month  the  tea  was 
very  strong,  "  as  red  as  blood  "  if  we  may  trust  Dr. 
Johnson;  and  it  was  very  likely  because  the  actress 
could  not  remember  to  change  her  recipe  when  Davy's 
pay-month  came  around,  that  her  housemate  soon  began 
to  grumble  quite  unpleasantly  about  the  size  of  the 

14 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

bills.  There  is  considerable  evidence  that  Garrick, 
though  a  brilliant  artist,  had  a  soul  not  above  candle- 
ends.1 

Some  chroniclers  of  the  time  declare  that  Garrick 
once  offered  marriage  to  Peg  Woffington.  Murphy 
says  that  he  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  buy  the  wedding- 
ring  and  try  it  on  her  finger,  but  that  as  the  inevitable 
hour  approached,  his  native  caution  asserted  itself. 
Peg,  rallying  him  on  his  glumness,  then  drew  out  the 
confession  that  he  was  "  wearing  the  shirt  of  Deianira," 
whereupon  she  told  him  with  fine  spirit  to  put  off  that 
irritating  garment  and  never  see  her  more  "  except  in 
the  course  of  professional  business,  or  in  the  presence 
of  a  third  person."  Which  proposition  Davy  accepted 
with  unheroic  alacrity!  It  was  agreed  that  the  presents 
which  she  had  given  him  should  be  returned;  and  they 
all  were,  with  the  notable  exception  of  a  pair  of  diamond 
shoe-buckles,  which,  Davy  asserted,  he  kept  because 

1  Samuel  Rogers  preserves,  as  coming  from  Foote,  one  story  about 
Garrick's  parsimony  which  is  truly  delicious.  The  actor,  it  appears, 
"  had  invited  Kurd  to  dine  with  him  at  the  Adelphi,  and,  after  dinner, 
the  evening  being  warm,  they  passed  up  and  down  in  front  of  the  house. 
As  they  passed  and  repassed  the  dining-room  windows,  Garrick  was 
in  perfect  agony,  for  he  saw  that  there  was  a  thief  in  one  of  the  candles 
which  was  burning  on  one  of  the  tables;  and  yet  Kurd  was  a  person 
of  such  consequence  that  he  could  not  run  away  from  him  to  prevent  the 
waste  of  his  tallow."  Over  against  this  story  it  is  only  fair,  however, 
to  weigh  Johnson's  testimony  to  Boswell  that  "  Garrick  is  a  very  liberal 
man,  sir.  He  has  given  away  more  money  than  any  man  in  England. 
There  may  be  a  little  vanity  mixed  but  he  has  shown  that  money  is 
not  his  first  object."  The  truth  of  the  matter  appears  to  be  that,  along 
with  his  artistic  temperament,  Garrick  had  an  admixture  of  shopkeeper's 
thrift  derived  from  his  French  ancestry.  All  about  him  he  saw  player- 
folk,  who,  after  periods  of  great  prosperity,  had  hardly  a  shilling  to  bless 
themselves  with  when  the  evil  days  descended.  He  did  not  propose  to  go 
out  like  that  if  he  could  prevent  it  by  watching  candle-ends! 

15 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

of  his  sentimental  attachment  to  them.  The  enemies 
of  the  actor  declare,  however,  that  he  could  not  bear  to 
part  with  anything  having  so  much  intrinsic  value. 
The  lady  whom  Garrick  did  marry  was  Mile.  Eva 
Maria  Violette,1  who  worshipped  him,  living  and  dead, 
and  to  whom  he  appears  to  have  been  a  very  good  hus- 
band. 

To  the  tremendous  talent  of  this  actor  all  the  con- 
temporary critics  bear  enthusiastic  record.  Kitty 
Clive  was  one  night  seen  standing  in  the  wings,  weeping 
and  scolding  alternately  at  his  power.  Angry  at  last  at 
finding  herself  so  affected,  she  turned  on  her  heel,  cry- 
ing in  the  downright  fashion  of  the  day:  "  Damn  him, 
he  could  act  a  gridiron!  "  It  is  said  that  in  his  King 
Lear,  Garrick's  very  stick  acted.  Charles  Dibdin 
asserts  that  the  man  never  ceased  to  act  whether  on 
the  stage  or  off,  and  relates  that  he  would  occasionally, 
for  the  benefit  of  his  friends,  go  through  what  he  used 
to  call  his  rounds,  by  standing  behind  a  chair  and  con- 
veying into  his  face  every  kind  of  passion,  blending 
one  into  the  other.  "  At  one  moment  you  laughed,  at 
another  you  cried;  now  he  terrified  you  and  presently 
you  conceived  yourself  something  horrible,  he  seemed  so 
terrified  at  you.  Afterwards  he  drew  his  features  into 
the  appearance  of  such  dignified  wisdom  that  Minerva 
might  have  been  proud  of  the  portrait;  and  then  — 

1  This  lady,  though  a  dancer,  was  a  protegee  of  Lord  and  Lady  Burton, 
through  whom  the  best  houses  were  open  to  her.  Robertson's  "  David 
Garrick  "  is  said  to  have  been  founded  on  an  incident  of  her  love  for 
Garrick.  Certain  it  is  that  Lady  Burton  capitulated  and  settled  £6000 
upon  the  bride. 

16 


DAVID    GARRTCK    AND    HIS    WIFE 

From  the  painting  by  Hogarth 

See  page  16 


,  November  12, 


By  a  Company  of   COMEDIANS, 

At  the  New-Theatre,  in  NaffaU'Sfreef, 

This  Evening,  being  the  1  2th  of  November,  will  be  prefented, 

(By  particular  Defire) 
'  An  Hiftoncal  P/ayt  cali'd, 

King  RICHARD  III 

CONTAINING 

The  Diftfefles  and  Death  of  King  Henry  the  Vlth  ;  the  artful 
Acquifition  of  the  Crown  by  Croob-iacKd  Richard  ;  the  Murder 
of  the  two  young  Princes  in  the  Tower  ;  and  the  memorable 
Battle  of  Bo/worth-Field}  being  the  laft  that  was  fought  betweea 
theHoufes  of  Tori  and  Lancajler. 


Richard, 
King  Hemy 


by 
by 

Prince  Eikuard,        by 
Dufceofror*.  by 

Earl  of  BJcbmoiut,    by 


Duke  of  Norfolk,     by 


Lord  5f<w/^, 

Lieutenant, 

Cettfy, 

Queen  Elizabeth, 

Lady  yfaw, 

Ducheftofr«r*, 


Mr.  Kgly. 
Mr.  Hallam. 
Mafter  £.//<*£». 
Mafter  A.  ttallm. 
Mr.  Oartfen. 
Mr.  Mtt!»m.r 
Mr.  Miitr. 
Mr.  Siitgltlm. 
Mr.  BttL 
Mr.  Adcock. 
Mrs.  Ihilam. 
Mrs.   /*feflrf. 
Mrs.  /yriy. 


To  which  Wilt  be  added, 
A    Ballad   F,A  R  C  E     call'd, 

The  ' DEVIL   TO  PAT. 


Sirjafojl 

7«*/«. 
Sutler, 
Fttuunt. 


Lady  Lsri*r*lt, 

NeU, 

LeiMt, 


Mr.  /fiitff*. 
Mr.  Mdcxt. 
Mr.  M'«w. 
Mr.  Siagleton. 
Mr.  &/i 
Mr.  /y^. 
Mr.  cSr*/fc». 
Mrs. 
Mrj. 
Mrs. 
Mils 


PRICES:  BOX,  G/  PIT,  4/  GALLERY,  a/ 
3x>  Perfons  whatever  to  be  admitted  behind  the  Scenes. 

B.     Gentlemen  end  Ladies  that  ckufe  Tickefs,  may  have  tbetrt 
at  Mr.  ParkerV  and  Mr.  GaineV  Printing-Offices, 
Money   will  be  taken  at  the   DOOR. 
To  begin  at   6  o'Clock. 


OLDEST   KNOWN   AMERICAN    PLAYBILL 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

degrading  yet  admirable  transition  —  he  became  a 
driveller.  In  short,  his  face  was  what  he  obliged  you 
to  fancy  it  —  age,  youth,  plenty,  poverty,  everything  it 
assumed."  Goldsmith  goes  so  far  as  to  declare  of  Garrick, 
that 

"  On  the  stage  he  was  natural,  simple,  affecting, 
'Twas  only  that  when  he  was  off  he  was  acting." 

Dr.  Johnson's  pronouncement  about  his  old  friend: 
"  Here  is  a  man  who  has  advanced  the  dignity  of  his 
profession;  Garrick  has  made  a  player  a  higher  char- 
acter," 1  is  borne  out  by  the  honour  once  paid  to  this 
actor  at  the  hands  of  Parliament.  It  happened  that  he 
was  the  sole  occupant  of  the  gallery  in  the  Commons,  one 
night  of  1777,  during  a  very  fierce  discussion  between 
two  members,  one  of  whom,  noticing  his  presence,  moved 
that  the  "  gallery  should  be  cleared."  Burke  thereupon 
sprang  to  his  feet,  and  appealing  to  the  House  in  that 
strain  of  eloquence  which  Americans  particularly  have 
reason  to  remember,  argued  that  Garrick,  the  great  mas- 
ter of  oratory,  one  to  whom  they  all  owed  much  and  to 
whom  he,  Burke,  felt  the  deepest  indebtedness,  be  ex- 
empted from  the  general  order  that  strangers  leave  the 
house.  Fox  and  Townshend  followed  in  similar  vein, 
characterizing  the  ex-actor  (for  Garrick  had  by  this  time 

1  Writing  of  Garrick's  death,  Hannah  More  says:  "  I  can  truly 
bear  this  testimony  to  his  memory,  that  I  never  witnessed  in  any  family 
more  decorum,  propriety  and  regularity  than  in  his;  where  I  never  saw 
a  card,  or  even  met  (except  in  one  instance)  a  person  of  his  own  pro- 
fession at  his  table,  of  which  Mrs.  Garrick,  by  her  elegance  of  taste,  her 
correctness  of  manners  and  very  original  turn  of  humour,  was  the  bright- 
est ornament." 

17 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

been  many  years  off  the  stage)  as  their  "  great  pre- 
ceptor." Whereupon  David  Garrick  was  permitted 
to  remain  in  the  House  of  Parliament  after  the  House 
had  been  cleared. 

Garrick,  of  course,  was  a  wonderful  stage  manager 
as  well  as  an  incomparable  actor.  And  he  was  also  a 
playwright  of  no  mean  ability,  as  Americans  early  dis- 
covered. His  farce,  "  The  Lying  Valet/'  was  one  of 
the  first  pieces  put  on  in  the  South  by  those  confusing 
companies  of  "  Virginia  Comedians,"  for  whom  con- 
flicting historians  variously  claim  histrionic  precedence 
in  America.  That  Garrick  was  being  played  at  Annap- 
olis three  months  earlier  than  the  date  long  accepted  as 
the  natal  day  of  American  drama  is,  however,  easily 
demonstrable.  For  in  the  Maryland  Gazette  of  June 
1 8,  1752  may  be  read  the  following: 

By  Permission  of  his  Honor,  the 

PRESIDENT 
At  the  New  Theatre 

in  Annapolis  by  the  Company  of  Comedians  from 
Virginia,  on  Monday,  being  the  22nd  of  this 
instant,  will  be  performed 

THE  BEGGAR'S  OPERA, 
likewise  a  Farce  called 

THE  LYING  VALET 
To  begin  precisely  at  7  o'clock. 
Tickets  to  be  had  at  the  printing  office. 

Box,  los.    Pit,  73.  6d. 

No  person  to  be  admitted  behind  the  scenes. 
18 


The  Romance  of,  the  American  Theatre 

N.  B.  The  Company  immediately  intend  to  Upper 
Marlborough,  as  soon  as  they  have  done  performing  here, 
where  they  intend  to  play  as  long  as  they  meet  with 
encouragment  and  so  on  to  Piscataway  and  Port  To- 
bacco. And  hope  to  give  satisfaction  to  the  Gentlemen 
and  Ladies  in  each  place,  that  will  favor  them  with  their 
company. 

Dunlap,  generally  accepted  as  the  historian  of  the 
American  stage,  from  the  appearance  of  his  book  l  in 
1832,  until  1888,  — -when  George  O.  Seilhamer  in  his  ex- 
haustive work  on  the  beginnings  of  the  drama  in  America 
came  along  and  proved  that  "  most  of  Dunlap 's 
history  was  fiction/7  —  did  not  realize,  apparently,  that 
Garrick  was  thus  related  to  early  American  drama. 
For  Dunlap  was  perfectly  satisfied  with  his  own  firm 
belief  that  the  drama  was  introduced  into  this  country 
by  William  Hallam,  the  successor  of  Garrick  at  Good- 
man's Field  Theatre,  who  in  1752  formed  a  joint  stock 
company  which  he  sent  to  America  under  the  manage- 
ment of  his  brother,  Lewis  Hallam.  The  first  play 
ever  acted  in  America  was  the  "  Merchant  of  Venice," 
Mr.  Dunlap  confidently  asserted,  and  this  was  given  by 
the  Hallam  Company  on  September  5, 1752,  at  Williams- 
burg,  then  the  capital  of  Virginia,  in  an  old  storehouse 
which  had  been  converted  into  a  theatre.  Seilhamer 
proves,  however,  that  plays  were  being  acted  in  the 
South,  as  has  been  shown,  some  time  before  the  advent 

1 "  A  History  of  The  American  Theatre,"  by  William  Dunlap,  New 
York,  1832. 

19 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

of  the  Hallams;  and  proves,  too,  that  both  in  New  York 
and  in  Philadelphia  regularly  established  companies 
were  performing  plays  at  least  two  years  before  the 
Hallams  came  over. 

Credit  is  due  to  an  eminent  jurist,  the  late  Charles 
P.  Daly,1  for  finding  traces  of  even  earlier  theatrical 
performances  in  America  than  any  of  these.  He  dis- 
covered 2  evidence,  from  an  advertisement,  of  the 
existence  of  some  kind  of  theatre  in  New  York, 
nineteen  years  before  Hallam  arrived  in  this  country. 
This  advertisement  reads  as  follows:  "To  be  Sold 
at  Reasonable  Rates,  all  Sorts  of  Household  Goods, 
viz.  Beds,  Chairs,  Tables,  Chests  of  Drawers,  Look- 
ing Glasses,  Andirons  and  Pictures  as  also  several 
sorts  of  Druggs  and  Medicines,  also  a  Negro  Girl  about 
16  years  of  age,  has  had  the  small-pox  and  is  fit  for 
Town  or  Country.  Enquire  of  George  Talbot,  next 
Door  to  the  Play-House."  (New  York  Gazette,  October 
T5>  Z733-)  That  this  theatre  had  opened  December  6, 
1732,  with  Farquhar's  comedy,  "  The  Recruiting 
Officer,"  a  long  overlooked  paragraph  in  the  New 
England  and  Boston  Gazette  of  January  i,  1733,  has 
since  established. 

Seilhamer  stoutly  maintains  that  dramatic  history 
in  America  began  with  the  production  of  Addison's 
"  Cato  "  in  Philadelphia  in  August,  1749,  quoting  in 

1  "  When  Was  The  First  Play  Produced  in  America?  "  by  Charles 
P.  Daly. 

2T.  Allston  Brown  claims  to  have  published  in  the  New  York 
Clipper,  seventeen  years  earlier  than  the  appearance  of  Judge  Daly's 
article,  the  discovery  that  the  first  theatre  in  America  was  opened  in  1732. 

2O 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

support  of  his  assertion  the  following  entry  in  a  manu- 
script journal  left  by  John  Smith,  a  son-in-law  of  James 
Logan:  "Sixth  month  (August)  22d,  1749.  —  Joseph 
Morris  and  I  happened  in  at  Peacock  Bigger's,  and  drunk 
tea  there,  and  his  daughter  being  one  of  the  company  who 
were  going  to  hear  the  tragedy  of  Cato  acted,  it  occasioned 
some  conversation  in  which  I  expressed  my  sorrow  that 
anything  of  the  kind  was  encouraged."  The  background 
of  this  pioneer  dramatic  undertaking  was  "  Plumstead's 
Store/'  and  the  company  appears  to  have  been  made 
up,  in  part  at  least,  of  actors  who  had  had  some  experi- 
ence in  England. 

There  is  every  reason  to  suppose  that  it  was  this 
same  little  band  of  Thespians  who,  on  March  5,  1750, 
gave  in  New  York  the  first  professional  performance 
of  Shakespeare  which  can  be  indisputably  ascribed  to 
America.  In  the  Weekly  Postboy  of  February  26,  the 
company  announced  their  arrival  from  Philadelphia 
and  stated  that  a  room  on  Nassau  Street  had  been  taken 
for  a  playhouse.  The  play  chosen  for  the  initial  pro- 
gram was  Colley  Gibber's  version  of  "  King  Richard 
III,"  Thomas  Kean  acting  the  part  of  the  humpbacked 
tyrant.  This  season  was  not  a  long  one,  though  a 
variety  of  pieces  were  played,  and  at  its  close  there  were 
given  a  number  of  benefits,  one  of  them  being  for  the 
Widow  Osborne,  described  in  an  advertisement  as  a 
person  who  had  met  "  with  divers  late  Hardships  and 
Misfortunes  "  for  which  it  was  hoped  that  "  all  Chari- 
table Benevolent  Ladies  and  others  will  favor  her  with 
their  Company."  Not  yet,  however,  was  the  drama 

21 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

to  be  accorded  a  cordial  welcome  in  New  York,  and 
neither  the  Widow  Osborne  nor  Thomas  Kean  found 
their  slender  purses  notably  fatter  after  this  season  of 


The  Hallams  had  scarcely  better  luck  when  they 
arrived  a  little  later. 

"  As  our  expedition  to  New  York  seems  very  likely 
to  be  attended  with  a  very  fatal  consequence/'  their 
statement  in  the  contemporary  press  sets  forth,  "  and 
ourselves  haply  censured  for  undertaking  it  without 
Assurance  of  Success;  we  beg  leave  humbly  to  lay  a 
true  State  of  our  Case  before  the  worthy  Inhabitants 
of  this  City;  if  possible  endeavour  to  remove  those 
great  Obstacles  which  at  present  lie  before  us,  and  give 
very  sufficient  Reasons  for  our  Appearance  in  this  part 
of  the  World,  where  we  all  had  the  most  sanguine  Hopes 
of  meeting  a  very  different  Reception;  little  imagining 
that  in  a  City,  to  all  Appearances  so  polite  as  this,  the 
Muses  would  be  banished,  the  works  of  the  immortal 
Shakespeare,  and  others,  the  greatest  Geniuses  England 
ever  produced,  denied  Admittance  among  them,  and 
the  instructive  and  elegant  Entertainment  of  the  Stage 
utterly  protested  against;  When,  without  Boasting, 
we  may  venture  to  affirm  that  we  are  capable  of  sup- 
porting its  Dignity  with  proper  Decorum  and  Regu- 
larity. 

"  In  the  Infancy  of  this  Scheme  it  was  proposed  to 
Mr.  William  Hallam,  now  of  London,  to  collect  a  Com- 
pany of  Comedians  and  send  them  to  New  York  and 
the  other  Colonies  in  America.  Accordingly  he  as- 
sented and  was  at  a  vast  expense  to  secure  Scenes, 
Cloathes,  People,  etc.  etc.  And  in  October,  1750,  sent 
over  to  this  Place  Mr.  Robert  Upton,  in  order  to  obtain 

22 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Permission  to  perform,  erect  a  Building,  and  settle 
everything  against  our  Arrival;  for  which  Service  Mr. 
Hallam  advanced  no  inconsiderable  Sum.  But  Mr. 
Upton,  on  his  Arrival,  found  here  that  Sett  of  Pretenders 
With  whom  he  joined  and,  unhappily  for  us,  quite 
neglected  the  Business  he  was  sent  about  from  Eng- 
land. For  we  never  heard  from  him  after. 

"  Being  thus  deceived  by  him  the  Company  was  at  a 
Stand  till  April,  1752  when,  by  the  persuasions  of  sev- 
eral gentlemen  in  London  and  Virginia  Captains,  we 
set  sail  on  board  of  Mr.  William  Lee  and  arrived,  after 
a  very  expensive  and  tiresome  Voyage  at  York  River 
on  the  28th  of  June  following;  where  we  obtained 
Leave  of  His  Excellency  the  Governor  and  performed 
with  universal  Applause  and  met  with  the  greatest 
Encouragement;  for  which  we  are  bound  by  the  strong- 
est Obligations  to  acknowledge  the  many  repeated  In- 
stances of  their  Spirit  and  Generosity.  We  were  there 
eleven  Months  before  we  thought  of  removing;  and 
then,  asking  Advice,  we  were  again  persuaded  to  come 
to  New  York  by  several  Gentlemen  etc.  whose  Names 
we  can  mention  but  do  not  think  proper  to  publish. 
They  told  us  that  we  should  meet  of  a  genteel  and 
favorable  Reception;  that  the  Inhabitants  were  gen- 
erous and  polite,  naturally  fond  of  Diversions  rational, 
particularly  those  of  the  Theatre:  Nay  they  even  told 
us  there  was  a  very  fine  Play-house  Building  and  that 
we  were  really  expected.  This  was  Encouragement 
sufficient  for  us  as  we  thought  and  we  came  firmly  as- 
sured of  Success;  but  how  far  our  Expectations  are 
answered  we  shall  leave  to  the  Candid  to  determine, 
and  only  beg  leave  to  add,  that  as  we  are  People  of  no 
Estates,  it  cannot  be  supposed  that  we  have  a  Fund 
sufficient  to  bear  up  against  such  unexpected  Repulses. 
A  Journey  by  Sea  and  Land,  Five  Hundred  Miles,  is  not 

23 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

undertaken  without  Money.  Therefore  if  the  worthy 
Magistrates  would  consider  this  in  our  Favor  that  it 
must  rather  turn  out  a  publick  Advantage  and  Pleas- 
ure, than  a  private  Injury,  They  would,  we  make  no 
Doubt,  grant  Permission  and  give  an  Opportunity  to 
convince  them  we  were  not  cast  in  the  same  Mould  with 
our  theatrical  Predecessors;  or  that  in  private  Life  or 
publick  Occupation  we  have  the  Affinity  to  them." 

This  manifesto,  though  inordinately  long,  has  here 
been  quoted  entire,  because  it  is  the  first  known  con- 
tribution to  that  voluminous  literature  for  and  against 
the  theatre  which  began  to  be  written  during  the  in- 
fancy of  the  American  d^rama  and  did  not  utterly  dis- 
appear until  the  middle  of  the  last  century.  Endless 
variations  of  such  titles  as  "  The  Theatre,  the  High  Road 
To  Hell  "  may  be  found  in  any  library  well  equipped 
with  Americana.  Quite  mild,  indeed,  in  comparison 
with  some  of  these  Philippics,  is  the  statement  made 
by  President  D wight  of  Yale  College  in  his  "  Essay  On 
The  Stage  "  (1824)  that  "  to  indulge  a  taste  for  play- 
going  means  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  loss  of  the 
most  valuable  treasure,  the  immortal  soul.  If  man  be 
determined,"  he  continues,  "  at  so  great  a  price,  so  im- 
mense a  loss,  to  indulge  the  gratifications  of  his  unhal- 
lowed desires,  and  yield  obedience  to  the  precepts  of 
false  morality,  he  is  the  murderer  of  his  own  soul!  " 

Undoubtedly  the  Hallams  were  more  blamable  than 
any  other  single  family  of  the  seventeenth  century  for 
encouraging  this  form  of  soul-slaughter.  It  would  be 
interesting,  therefore,  if  we  could  show  them  to  have 

24 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

possessed  a  very  high  standard  of  personal  morality 
and  to  have  been  fine  artists  into  the  bargain.  But 
little  or  nothing  is  known  about  them.  Hallam  was  a 
well-known  name  in  English  theatrical  circles  of  the  day, 
and  many  writers  have  on  this  account  assumed  that 
the  Mrs.  Hallam  who  came  to  America  was  the  same 
one  who  played  at  Covent  Garden  and  that  the  ad- 
mirable Drury  Lane  *  actor,  whom  Macklin  acciden- 
tally killed  in  the  course  of  a  dispute  about  the  owner- 
ship of  a  wig,  rose  from  the  dead  to  conduct  theatrical 
enterprises  in  America  years  later.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
the  first  generation  of  Hallams  in  this  country  were  not 
at  all  distinguished  as  actors,  either  here  or  in  Eng- 
land. But  they  are,  of  course,  entitled  to  distinct  credit 
for  the  courage  and  persistence  with  which  they  carried 
on  their  dramatic  pioneering  in  a  new  country.  Dunlap 
tells  us  that  during  the  passage  over,  the  pieces  which 
had  been  selected,  cast,  and  put  in  study  before  em- 
barkation were  regularly  rehearsed  on  the  deck  of  the 
Charming  Sally,  and  about  this  he  was  very  likely 
right,  for  he  had  his  information  from  Lewis  Hallam, 
then  a  lad  of  twelve.  Rehearsals  on  the  deck  of  a  vessel 
far  out  at  sea  is  the  kind  of  a  thing  a  lad  of  twelve  would 
be  likely  to  remember  accurately,  even  when  an  old 
man.  Not  so  greatly  to  be  trusted,  however,  is  Lewis's 
statement  regarding  the  location  in  Williamsburg  of 
the  building  his  father  soon  fitted  up  as  a  theatre,  a 
building  "  so  near  the  woods  that  the  manager  could 

1  Drury  Lane  and   Covent  Garden,  the   two  "  patent   theatres  "  of 
London,  long  had  a  monopoly  of  the  serious  drama. 

25 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

stand  in  the  door  and  shoot  pigeons  for  his  dinner, 
which  he  more  than  once  actually  did."  Of  the  in- 
terior aspect  of  this  theatre  and  of  the  acting  that  there 
went  on  we  shall  have  more  to  say  in  the  chapter  treat- 
ing particularly  the  ups  and  downs  of  the  drama  in  the 
South.  Suffice  it  here  then  to  chronicle  one  interesting 
incident  relating  rather  to  the  audience  than  to  the  play- 
ers, in  the  course  of  this  Williamsburg  season.  From  a 
letter  in  the  Maryland  Gazette  of  November  17,  we 
learn  that  the  "  Emperor  of  the  Cherokee  nation  with 
his  Empress  and  their  son,  the  young  Prince,  attended 
by  several  of  his  Warriors  and  Great  Men  and  their 
Ladies,"  adjourned  from  a  session  with  the  Governor 
to  see  at  the  theatre  "  the  Tragedy  of  Othello  and  a 
Pantomime  Performance  which  gave  them  great  sur- 
prise as  did  the  fighting  with  naked  Swords  on  the 
Stage,  which  occasioned  the  Empress  to  order  some 
about  her  to  go  and  prevent  them  killing  one  another." 
Hallam's  lengthy  letter  about  his  grievances,  which 
he  circulated  upon  his  arrival  in  New  York,  accom- 
plished something  of  what  its  author  had  in  mind  when 
he  indited  it;  that  is,  it  succeeded  in  gaining  for  him 
finally  the  permission  to  perform  which  had  been  re- 
fused at  first.  From  September  17,  1753,  to  March  18, 
1754,  the  Hallam  Company  performed  every  Monday, 
Wednesday  and  Friday  evening.  The  Shakespeare  of- 
fered consisted  of  "  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  "  Richard  III." 
and  "  King  Lear  "  only;  but  Garrick,  Cibber,  Farquhar, 
Addison,  Rowe,  Steele,  Fielding  and  Congreve  were  also 
included  in  the  repertory,  this  efficient  body  of  players 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

evidently  proving  themselves  as  acceptable  in  comedy 
as  in  tragedy,  and  as  good  in  farce  as  in  both  other 
dramatic  forms.  The  English  rule  of  a  farce  or  panto- 
mime as  an  afterpiece  to  the  play  was  rigidly  followed 
at  this  time. 

When  the  New  York  season  closed,  in  the  spring  of 
1754,  Lewis  Hallam  took  his  company  to  Philadelphia. 
With  no  little  difficulty  permission  was  obtained  to  give 
twenty-four  performances  in  the  Quaker  City  —  on 
condition  that  nothing  indecent  or  immoral  should  be 
presented  —  and  th$  same  warehouse  which  had  pre- 
viously been  used  by  Thomas  Kean's  associates  was 
again  rented  from  William  Plumstead.  Mr.  Plumstead 
had  been  born  a  Friend  but  early  in  life  he  had  become 
an  Episcopalian.  Thus  he  was  eligible  for  the  convivial- 
ities of  the  famous  fishing  club,  "  the  Colony  in  Schuyl- 
kill,"  and  was  free  to  subscribe  to  the  first  dancing 
assembly  in  Philadelphia,  held  in  1748.  Moreover,  he 
was  himself  a  magistrate.  Almost  providential  for  the 
players  appears  to  have  been  the  unique  personal 
equipment  of  William  Plumstead,  sole  owner  of  a  build- 
ing adapted  to  theatrical  exhibitions! 

Yet  it  should  not  be  supposed  by  this  that  Lewis 
Hallam  had  a  very  large  sum  of  money  to  share  with 
his  brother  William,  when  the  projector  of  the  company 
came  over  from  England,  in  the  middle  of  the  Philadel- 
phia season,  to  divide  the  spoils.  America  in  the  Hallam 
period  had  an  English  population  of  a  million  only  — 
according  to  Dr.  Franklin's  estimate  of  1751  —  and  as 
this  was  scattered  from  Maine  to  Georgia,  comparatively 

27 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

little  of  it  was  available  for  theatrical  patronage  in  the 
four  towns  of  Williamsburg,  Annapolis,  New  York  and 
Philadelphia,  where  the  company  had  thus  far  played. 
Philadelphia  in  1754,  though  a  leading  city  on  the 
American  continent,  was  not  yet  any  more  prepared 
than  New  York  to  become  the  permanent  home  of  the 
drama.  Moreover,  there  was  in  Philadelphia  one  cir- 
cumstance which  militated  strongly  against  the  im- 
mediate success  of  the  stage.  This,  says  Seilhamer, 
"  was  the  fact  that  Philadelphia  was  proud  of  its  scien- 
tific and  literary  pre-eminence  in  the  Colonies.  The 
golden  youth  of  the  metropolis,  emulating  the  solid 
attainments  of  Dr.  Franklin,  affected  to  regard  the 
lectures  of  Professor  Kinnersly  on  electricity  and  his 
practical  experiments  at  the  Academy  as  more  instruct- 
ive and  entertaining  than  the  exhibition  of  stage  plays 
by  a  company  of  strolling  players." 

After  Philadelphia  the  Hallam  Company  dissolved. 
When  we  meet  them  next,  four  years  later,  Mrs.  Hallam 
has  become  Mrs.  Douglass,  having  married  the  new 
manager  after  the  death  of  her  first  husband  during 
a  sojourn  of  the  family  on  the  island  of  Jamaica.  Young 
Lewis  Hallam  is  now  the  company's  leading  man  in 
all  save  the  heaviest  roles;  these  were  assigned  to  Mr. 
Harman,  the  husband  of  Colley  Gibber's  granddaughter, 
who  was  also  a  member  of  the  Douglass  Company. 
During  the  months  of  November  and  December,  1758, 
this  company  played  in  New  York,  their  headquarters 
being  a  new  theatre  built  by  Douglass  on  what  was  then 
known  as  Cruger's  Wharf.  Again  there  was  trouble 

28 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

with  the  Magistracy,  however,  and  it  must  have  been 
with  a  sigh  of  relief  that  the  company  betook  itself  to 
Philadelphia  in  the  spring  of  1759.  But  here,  also, 
there  were  legal  difficulties  as  well  as  annoying  delays 
over  the  opening  of  the  new  theatre  which  the  indomitable 
Douglass  had  managed  somehow  to  erect  on  Society 
Hill.  By  the  summer  and  autumn  of  1759,  good  things 
were  none  the  less  being  presented,  notably  "  Hamlet  " 
and  "  Macbeth  "  for  the  first  time  in  America.  Another 
interesting  bill  was  that  put  on  the  night  of  Mr. 
Douglass's  benefit,  with  Lewis  Hallam  playing  Romeo 
to  his  mother's  Juliet.  So  far  as  we  know  this  is  the 
only  instance  in  stage  history  where  the  immortal 
lovers  of  Verona  were  impersonated  by  mother  and 
son. 

Leaving  to  the  Southern  chapter  the  subsequent  ad- 
ventures of  these  players  in  Maryland,  we  come  now 
to  their  invasion  of  New  England,  in  the  summer  of 
1761.  Here  for  the  first  time  we  meet  the  "  Moral 
Dialogues,"  under  cover  of  which  many  good  New 
Englanders  of  the  eighteenth  century  long  enjoyed  the 
drama  without  experiencing  a  single  prick  of  con- 
science. 

A  NEWPORT  PLAYBILL 

King's  Arms  Tavern,  Newport,  Rhode  Island.  On 
Monday,  June  10,  at  the  Public  Room  of  the  above 
Inn,  will  be  delivered  a  Series  of  MORAL  DIALOGUES, 
in  Five  Parts,  Depicting  the  Evil  Effects  of  Jealousy 
and  other  Bad  Passions,  and  Proving  that  Happiness 
can  only  Spring  from  the  Pursuit  of  Virtue.  Mr.  DOUG- 

29 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

LASS  will  represent  a  noble  and  magnificent  Moor 
named  Othello,  who  loves  a  young  lady  named  Desde- 
mona,  and  after  he  has  married  her,  harbors  (as  in  too 
many  cases)  the  dreadful  passion  of  jealousy. 

Of  Jealousy,  our  being's  bane, 

Mark  the  small  cause,  and  the  most  dreadful  pain. 

MR.  ALLYN  will  depict  the  character  of  a  specious 
villain,  in  the  regiment  of  Othello,  who  is  so  base  as  to 
hate  his  commander  on  mere  suspicion,  and  to  impose 
on  his  best  friend.  Of  such  character,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
there  are  thousands  in  the  world,  and  the  one  in  ques- 
tion may  present  to  us  a  salutary  warning. 

The  man  that  wrongs  his  master  and  his  friend,       » 
What  can  he  come  to  but  a  shameful  end? 

MR.  HALLAM  will  delineate  a  young  and  thoughtless 
officer,  who  is  traduced  by  Mr.  Allyn,  and  getting  drunk, 
loses  his  situation,  and  his  general's  esteem.  All  young 
men,  whatsoever,  take  example  from  Cassk). 

The  ill  effects  of  drinking  would  you  see? 
Be  warned  and  keep  from  evil  company. 

MR.  MORRIS  will  represent  an  old  gentleman,  the 
father  of  Desdemona,  who  is  not  cruel,  or  covetous,  but 
is  foolish  enough  to  dislike  the  noble  Moor,  his  son-in- 
law,  because  his  face  is  not  white,  forgetting  that  we 
all  spring  from  one  root.  Such  prejudices  are  numerous 
and  very  wrong. 

Fathers  beware  what  sense  and  love  ye  lack, 
'Tis  crime,  not  color,  makes  the  being  black. 

MR.  QUELCH  will  depict  a  fool,  who  wishes  to  become 
a  knave,  and  trusting  one  gets  killed  by  him.  Such  is 
the  friendship  of  rogues  —  take  heed. 

3° 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

When  fools  would  knaves  become,  how  often  you'll 
Perceive  the  knave  not  wiser  than  the  fool. 

MRS.  MORRIS  will  represent  a  young  and  virtuous 
wife,  who  being  wrongfully  suspected,  gets  smothered 
(in  an  adjoining  room)  by  her  husband. 

Reader,  attend;  and  ere  thou  goest  hence 
Let  fall  a  tear  to  hapless  innocence. 

MRS.  DOUGLASS  will  be  her  faithful  attendant,  who 
will  hold  out  a  good  example  to  all  servants,  male  and 
female,  and  to  all  people  in  subjection. 

Obedience  and  gratitude 

Are  things  as  rare  as  they  are  good. 

Various  other  dialogues,  too  numerous  to  mention  here, 
will  be  delivered  at  night,  all  adapted  to  the  improve- 
ment of  the  mind  and  manners.  The  whole  will  be  re- 
peated Wednesday  and  Saturday.  Tickets,  six  shillings 
each,  to  be  had  within.  Commencement  at  7,  conclusion 
at  half-past  ten,  in  order  that  every  spectator  may  go 
home  at  a  sober  hour  and  reflect  upon  what  he  has  seen 
before  he  retires  to  rest. 

God  save  the  king 

And  long  may  he  sway 
East,  North,  and  South, 

And  fair  America. 

Following  the  presentation  of  this  disguised  "  Othello," 
the  company  went  from  Newport  to  Providence,  en- 
countering in  the  latter  city  even  greater  opposition  than 
they  had  met  before.  Immediately,  indeed,  there  was 
passed  "  an  Act  to  Prevent  Stage  Plays  and  other 
Theatrical  entertainments  within  this  Colony."  The 

31 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

reason  alleged  for  the  passage  of  this  Act  was  that  the- 
atre-going occasioned  "  great  and  unnecessary  expenses," 
besides  discouraging  industry  and  frugality,  and  tended 
likewise  to  increase  "  Immorality  impiety  and  contempt 
of  religion."  The  reasons  behind  the  Providence  Act 
are  almost  exactly  the  same  as  were  set  forth  that  same 
year  as  a  result  of  an  attempt  to  establish  a  playhouse 
in  New  Hampshire.  The  petitions  pro  and  con  pre- 
sented in  the  latter  case  make  very  interesting  reading. 

"  Province  of  New  Hampshire  To  His  Excellency 
Benning  Wentworth,  Esq.,  Governor  and  Commander- 
in-Chief  in  and  over  His  Majesty's  Province  of  New 
Hampshire  —  The  Petition  of  sundry  of  the  inhabitants 
of  Portsmouth,  in  the  Province  of  New  Hampshire  — 
humbly  shews, 

"  That  the  subscribers  understand  that  there  has 
been  a  proposal  made  by  one  of  the  actors  of  the  plays, 
sometime  since  at  Newport,  but  more  lately  at  New 
York,  to  erect  a  play-house  here  sometime  hence;  and 
that  there  is  a  petition  presented  to  your  Excellency 
to  inhibit  and  prevent  the  same: 

"  Now,  your  petitioners,  being  informed  that  the 
said  actors  act  no  obscene  or  immoral  plays,  but  such 
as  tend  to  the  improvement  of  the  mind  and  informing 
the  judgment  in  things  proper  to  be  known,  in  a  civil 
and  well-regulated  society:  Your  petitioners  pray  your 
Excellency  not  to  discourage,  but  rather  forward,  the 
same,  and  your  petitioners  as  in  duty  bound  shall  ever 
pray,  etc." 

Signed  by  Matthew  Livermore,  George  Meserve, 
Theodore  Atkinson,  Jr.,  Joshua  Brackett,  John  Went- 
worth (afterwards  governor)  and  forty  other  persons. 

32 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

To  prohibit  the  plays  there  came  promptly  a  counter- 
petition  signed  by  Henry  Sherburne,  Eleazer  Russell, 
John  Penhallow,  John  Newmarch,  and  thirty-five  others, 
all  of  whom  were  honestly  persuaded  that  such  "  sundry 
entertainments  of  the  stage,"  as  might  be  given  in  the 
town  "  would  be  of  very  pernicious  consequences,  not 
only  to  the  morals  of  the  young  people  (even  if  there 
should  be  no  immoral  exhibitions)  by  dissipating  their 
minds,  and  giving  them  an  idle  turn  of  attachment 
to  pleasure  and  amusement,  with  other  ill  effects  which 
there  is  the  greatest  reason  to  fear  from  such  enter- 
tainments in  a  place  where  they  are  a  novelty." 

An  even  larger  group,  including  the  five  selectmen, 
Samuel  Hale,  Clement  Jackson,  Daniel  Warner,  Mark 
H.  Wentworth,  George  Boyd,  Richard  Wiburd,  John 
Downing,  Samuel  Cutt,  Jacob  Sheafe,  Thomas  Chad- 
bourn,  and  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  others, 
represented  in  still  another  petition,  that  the  "  inhab- 
itants thereof  "  would  lose  not  only  their  morals  but 
their  servants  if  the  players  were  permitted  to  come  to 
town.  For,  "  as  the  poor  will  always  imitate  the 
richer,"  they  argued,  "  every  servant  in  town  will  soon 
turn  player!  " 

To  avert  these  many  and  great  dangers,  it  was  enacted 
in  the  House  of  Representatives  on  June  5,  1762,  that 
the  players  be  not  made  welcome  to  Portsmouth,  "  at 
least  at  this  time."  The  reasons  alleged  were  "  Because 
when  such  entertainments  are  a  novelty,  they  have 
a  more  peculiar  influence  on  the  minds  of  young  people, 
greatly  endanger  their  morals  by  giving  them  a  turn  for 

33 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

intriguing,  amusement  and  pleasure,  even  upon  the 
best  and  most  favorable  supposition,  that  nothing  con- 
trary to  decency  and  good  manners  is  exhibited;  yet 
the  strong  impressions  made  by  the  gallantries,  amors, 
and  other  moving  representations,  with  which  the  best 
players  abound,  will  dissipate  and  indispose  the  minds 
of  youth,  not  used  to  them,  to  everything  important 
and  serious;  and  as  there  is  a  general  complaint  of  a 
prevailing  turn  to  pleasure  and  idleness  in  most  young 
people  among  us,  which  is  too  well  grounded,  the  enter- 
tainments of  the  stage  would  inflame  that  temper.  All 
young  countries  have  much  more  occasion  to  encourage 
a  spirit  of  industry  and  application  to  business,  than 
to  countenance  schemes  of  amusement  and  pleasure." 
Which  was,  very  likely,  a  perfectly  valid  reason  for 
prohibiting  plays  in  New  Hampshire  in  June,  1762. 

This  early  "  attempt  to  introduce  stage  plays  in  New 
Hampshire  "  seems  to  have  eluded  the  notice  of  both 
Dunbar  and  Seilhamer,  —  very  likely  because  nothing 
came  of  it.  To  writers  whose  primary  concern  is  the 
development  of  the  theatre,  Douglass  succeeding  was, 
of  course,  far  more  interesting  than  Douglass  when  he 
failed. 

David  Douglass  was  not  a  person  to  be  easily  dis- 
couraged. Between  his  two  campaigns  in  Rhode  Island, 
he  had  obtained  permission  from  the  lieutenant- 
governor  of  New  York,  Cadwallader  Golden,  "  to  build 
a  theatre  to  perform  in  this  city  the  ensuing  winter." 
Thus  it  came  about  that  on  Beekman  Street,  a  short 
distance  below  Nassau,  on  the  south  side  of  what  was 

34 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

then  called  Chapel  Street,  was  erected  New  York's  third 
theatre,  in  which  a  season  opened  on  November  19, 
1761,  and  lasted  five  months,  opposition  being  all  the 
while  bitter  and  determined.  To-day  we  may  follow 
the  controversy  in  the  columns  of  Parker's  Gazette. 
"  Philodemus  "  is  the  first  contributor,  charging  that 
all  ladies  who  attend  the  theatre  are  lacking  in  modesty, 
and  declaring  that  the  habit  of  play-going  has  often 
developed  amorous  tendencies  in  the  hearts  of  good 
women.  To  which  "  Amanda  "  answers,  on  the  four- 
teenth of  December,  that  so  far  as  she  can  recall,  only 
one  play,  "  The  Fair  Penitent,"  presented  vice  alluringly. 
And  then,  after  the  manner  of  woman  in  argument,  she 
proceeds  to  call  her  opponent  names.  "  Philodemus  " 
must  be  an  "  impudent  fellow,"  she  declares,  "  some 
super-annuated  animal  that  has  past  his  grand  climac- 
teric, whose  earlier  time  of  life  has  been  employed  in 
luxury  and  debauchery,  and  now  being  satiated,  con- 
cludes that  all  is  vanity  and  every  pleasure  criminal." 
The  piqued  "  Philodemus "  thereupon  queries  of 
"  Amanda  "  which  is  the  best  teacher,  the  playhouse  or 
the  Bible,  going  on  to  retort,  out  of  his  wounded  self- 
esteem,  that  "  Amanda  "  is  herself  a  "  strolling  player!  " 
So  the  war  of  words  goes  merrily  on,  the  letters  which 
attacked  the  drama  being,  however,  as  the  publisher 
of  the  Gazette  admitted,  very  well  paid  for. 

No  better  index  to  the  attitude  of  the  times  towards 
plays  and  players  may  be  obtained  than  by  perusing  the 
files  of  these  pre-Revolutionary  papers.  The  adverti- 
sing columns  of  the  day  offered  an  easy  means  of  com- 

35 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

munication  between  the  manager  and  his  public,  and 
Mr.  Douglass  seized  with  avidity  upon  the  service  they 
could  render  him.  One  notice,  aimed  at  the  vice  of 
crowding  the  stage  during  the  performance,  which  had 
been  copied  in  this*country  from  the  pernicious  custom 
then  prevalent  in  England,  reads  as  follows:  "  Com- 
plaints having  been  several  times  made  that  a  number 
of  gentlemen  crowd  the  stage  and  very  much  interrupt 
the  performance,  and  that  it  is  impossible  that  the  act- 
ors,|when  thus  obstructed,  could  do  that  justice  to  their 
parts  they  otherwise  could,  it  will  be  taken  as  a  particular 
favor  if  no  gentleman  will  be  offended  that  he  is  abso- 
lutely refused  admittance  at  the  stage  door,  unless  he 
has  previously  secured  himself  a  place  in  either  the 
stage  or  upper  boxes." 

Another  curious  advertisement  printed  in  Game's 
Mercury  a  few  days  after  the  close  of  the  season  of  1761- 
1762,  shows  that  the  gallants  who  disregarded  this  rule 
laid  themselves  open  to  unpleasant  consequences;  for 
there  may  be  found  a  card  which  proves  that  "  the  egg 
as  a  vehicle  of  dramatic  criticism  came  into  use  early  in 
this  Continent."  Seilhamer,  however,  declares  that  the 
eggs  referred  to  in  the  card  probably  expressed  dis- 
approbation not  of  the  actors,  but  of  the  "  beaus  of  the 
period  who  with  their  powdered  wigs,  long,  stiff-skirted 
coats,  and  waistcoats,  with  flaps  reaching  nearly  to  their 
knees,  silk  stockings,  short-quartered  shoes,  and  silver 
or  paste  buckles,"  were  in  the  habit  of  crowding  the 
stage  and  so  interfering  with  the  gallery's  view  of  the 
play.  Now  for  the  card:  "  Theatre  in  New  York,  May 

36 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

3,  1762.  A  Pistole  Reward  will  be  given  to  whoever  can 
discover  the  person  who  was  so  very  rude  as  to  throw 
Eggs  from  the  Gallery  upon  the  stage  last  Monday, 
by  which  the  Cloaths  of  some  Ladies  and  Gentlemen  were 
spoiled  and  the  performance  in  some  measure  inter- 
rupted, D.  Douglass." 

It  was  not  until  five  years  later,  indeed,  that  New 
York  received  a  play-acting  company  with  entire  cor- 
diality. Then  began  the  successful  career  of  the  theatre 
in  John  Street,  which  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  remained 
the  background  of  all  New  York's  most  creditable 
dramatic  efforts. 

In  appearance  there  was  little  that  was  imposing  in 
this  Temple  of  the  Muses.  It  was  approached  from  the 
sidewalk  by  a  covered  passage  some  sixty  feet  long, 
made  of  rough  wooden  materials;  inside,  it  was  con- 
structed principally  of  wood,  painted  red.  It  had  two 
rows  of  boxes,  a  pit  and  a  gallery,  and  when  the  seats 
were  all  sold  at  the  prices  then  current,  could  bring  in 
a-s  much  as  eight  hundred  dollars  a  night.  The  stage 
was  as  large  as  most  stages  of  that  day,  and  there  were 
dressing-rooms  and  a  greenroom  in  the  shed  adjacent 
to  the  theatre.  For  a  description  of  the  house  as  it 
looked  when  reopened  after  the  Revolution,  we  turn 
to  a  passage  in  the  first  American  play  produced  in 
New  York  and  the  first  comedy  by  an  American  that 
was  American  in  theme.  This  play,  called  "  The  Con- 
trast," was  written  by  Judge  Tyler  of  Vermont,  and 
in  it  one  of  the  characters,  the  original  Brother  Jonathan 
of  the  stage,  happens  in  at  the  theatre  in  John  Street 

37 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

when  "  The  School  for  Scandal  "  was  there  the  bill. 
But  let  us  give  his  experiences  in  his  own  words. 

"  Jenny  —  So,  Mr.  Jonathan,  I  hear  you  were  at  the 
play  last  night. 

Jon.  — At  the  play!  Why,  do  you  think  I  went  to 
the  devil's  drawing-room? 

Jenny  —  The  devil's  drawing-room? 

Jon.  —  Yes,  why,  ain't  cards  and  dice  the  devil's 
devices?  And  the  playhouse,  where  the  devil  hangs  out 
the  vanities  of  the  world  on  the  tenter-hooks  of  tempta- 
tion? .  .  .  You  won't  catch  me  at  a  playhouse,  I  war- 
rant you." 

v  To  the  question,  however,  as  to  where  he  was  at 
six  o'clock  the  night  before,  Jonathan  says  that  while 
wandering  around  in  search  of  innocent  diversion,  he 
"  saw  a  great  crowd  of  folks  going  into  a  long  entry 
that  had  lanterns  over  the  door  so  I  asked  a  man  if  that 
was  the  place  where  they  played  hocus  pocus?  "  Being 
assured  that  hocus  pocus  tricks  might  there  be  witnessed, 
Jonathan  "  went  right  in,  and  they  showed  me  away 
clean  up  to  the  garret  just  like  meeting-house  gallery. 
And  so  I  saw  a  power  of  topping  folks,  all  sitting  around 
in  little  cabins,  just  like  father's  corn-crib,  and  then 
there  was  such  a  squeaking  of  the  fiddles  and  such  a 
tarnal  blaze  of  the  lights,  my  head  was  near  turned.  At 
length  people  that  sat  near  me  set  up  such  a  hissing  — 
hiss  like  so  many  mad  cats,  and  then  they  went  thump, 
thump,  thump,  just  like  our  Peleg  thrashing  wheat, 
and  stampt  away  just  like  the  nation  and  called  out 
for  one  Mr.  Langolee  —  I  suppose  he  helps  act  the 
tricks."  In  the  midst  of  all  this,  Jonathan  goes  on, 
"  they  lifted  up  a  great  green  cloth  and  let  us  look  right 
into  the  next  neighbor's  house.  Have  you  a  good  many 
houses  in  New  York  made  in  that  'ere  way? 

38 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Jenny  —  Not  many.    But  did  you  see  the  family? 

Jon.  —  Yes,  swamp  it,  I  seed  the  family. 

Jenny  —  Well  and  how  did  you  like  them? 

Jon.  —  Why,  I  vow,  they  were  pretty  much  like 
other  families ;  —  there  was  a  poor  good-natured  curse 
of  a  husband  and  a  sad  rantipole  of  a  wife.  .  .  .  Yes 
and  there  was  one  youngster,  they  called  him  Mr.  Jo- 
seph; he  talked  as  sober  and  as  pious  as  a  minister; 
but,  )ike  some  ministers  I  know,  he  was  a  sly  tike  in 
his  heart,  for  all  that;  he  was  going  to  ask  a  young 
woman  to  spark  it  with  him  and  —  the  Lord  have 
mercy  on  my  Soul  —  she  was  another  man's  wife." 

For  a  categorical  description  of  this  1767-1768  season 
at  John  Street  the  reader  is  referred  to  Seilhamer. 
Inasmuch  as  that  author  has  devoted  three  large  tomes 
to  a  history  of  the  American  stage  in  the  eighteenth 
century,  it  is  obvious  that  we  can  give  here  nothing 
more  than  a  few  amusing  incidents  connected  with 
the  stage  at  this  period.  One  such  was  the  attendance  of 
the  Indian  chiefs  at  the  playhouse  when  "  King  Richard 
III  "  was  given  early  in  the  season,  and  their  compli- 
mentary presentation  of  a  war  dance  when  they  next 
came  to  town  in  April,  out  of  appreciation  for  the  enjoy- 
ment they  had  derived  on  their  previous  visit.  At 
the  bottom  of  the  advertisement  for  this  latter  occasion 
may  be  found  the  following  note:  "  The  Cherokee 
Chiefs  and  Warriors,  being  desirous  of  making  some  re- 
turn for  the  friendly  Reception  and  Civilities  they  have 
received  in  this  city,  have  offered  to  entertain  the  Public 
with  the  War  Dance,  which  they  will  exhibit  on  the 
stage  after  the  Pantomime.  It  is  humbly  presumed  that 

39 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

no  part  of  the  audience  will  forget  the  proper  Decorum 
so  essential  to  all  public  Assemblies,  particularly  on  this 
Occasion,  as  the  Persons  who  have  condescended  to  con- 
tribute to  their  entertainment  are  of  Rank  and  Conse- 
quence in  their  own  country." 

Such  extraordinary  attractions  as  these  notwith- 
standing, Mr.  Douglass  found  himself  almost  bankrupt 
when  this  season  in  New  York  closed,  and  again  he  was 
obliged  to  go  to  Philadelphia  to  recoup.  Nor  was  it 
very  different  in  New  York  the  following  season,  though 
on  one  night  the  Masons,  and  on  another  the  "  Friendly 
Brothers  of  St.  Patrick  "  took  blocks  of  seats  for  their 
membership.  An  advertisement  to  facilitate  this  lat- 
ter indulgence  may  be  found  in  the  New  York  Journal 
of  March  30.  It  reads:  "The  Friendly  Brothers  of 
St.  Patrick  and  several  Gentlemen  of  this  City  intend 
dining  together  at  Bolton  and  SigePs,  next  Monday, 
and  from  thence  to  go  to  the  Play  in  the  Evening;  such 
Gentlemen  as  propose  to  join  them  will  be  pleased  to 
send  in  their  Names  to  the  Bar  of  said  Tavern  two  days 
before.  New  York,  March  28,  1769." 

It  was  at  this  time  in  the  history  of  Mr.  Douglass's 
players  that  Miss  Hallam  began  to  come  to  the  front  in 
leading  parts  as  the  successor  of  Miss  Cheer,  who  had 
been  for  some  time  the  leading  woman  of  the  company 
and  who  had  further  distinguished  herself  by  marrying 
a  lord  in  the  course  of  one  of  the  visits  of  the  players  to 
Philadelphia.  In  the  Pennsylvania  Chronicle  of  August 
28,  1768,  this  event,  which  would  now  be  good  for  a 
"front  page  story"  at  least,  received  the  following 

40 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

terse  treatment:  "  Last  week  was  married  in  Maryland 
the  Right  Honorable  Lord  Rosehill  to  Miss  Margaret 
Cheer,  a  young  lady  much  admired  for  her  theatrical 
performances."  Lord  Rosehill  had  just  turned  twenty, 
and  it  is  quite  probable  that  the  lady  was  considerably 
his  senior.  As  the  first  actress  on  the  American  stage 
to  capture  a  lord  for  a  husband,  she  is  certainly  entitled 
to  extended  treatment  in  a  book  claiming  to  deal  with 
the  "  romance  "  of  the  American  theatre.  But  there 
were  no  press  agents  in  those  days,  and  the  scanty 
announcement  which  has  been  quoted  is  all  that  can 
be  found,  alas!  about  this  interesting  alliance.  That 
Miss  Cheer  was  a  good  actress  is,  however,  certain.  For 
during  her  short  reign  on  the  American  stage,  she  is 
known  to  have  played  fifty  of  the  leading  characters 
as  well  as  a  few  parts  in  pantomime  and  farce.  Lord 
Rosehill  was  the  son  and  heir  of  the  sixth  Earl  of  Northesk 
in  the  Scotch  peerage,  but  his  actress  wife  never  became 
a  countess.  The  old  earl  was  still  living  when  Lady 
RosehiU's  still  young  husband  died  in  France,  without 
issue,  in  1788. 

The  press  of  the  time  showed  itself  less  niggardly 
toward  the  players  when  one  of  their  number  died  than 
when  a  marriage  into  the  nobilrty  was  consummated. 
When  Colley  Gibber's  granddaughter,  Mrs.  Harman, 
passed  away,  May  27,  1773,  Rivington's  Gazette  printed 
quite  a  respectful  obituary  notice,  the  first  relating  to 
an  actress  which  ever  appeared  in  an  American  news- 
paper. "On  Thursday  last,"  it  reads,  "died  in  the 
43d  year  of  her  age,  Mrs.  Catherine  Maria  Harman, 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

granddaughter  of  the  celebrated  Colley  Gibber,  Esq., 
poet-laureate.  She  was  a  just  actress,  possessed  much 
merit  in  low  comedy,  and  dressed  all  her  characters 
with  infinite  propriety,  but  her  figure  prevented  her 
from  succeeding  in  tragedy  and  genteel  comedy.  In  pri- 
vate life  she  was  sensible, l  humane  and  benevolent. 
Her  little  fortune  she  has  left  to  Miss  Cheer,  and  her 
obsequies  were  on  Saturday  night  attended  by  a  very 
genteel  procession  to  the  cemetery  of  the  old  English 
Church." 

While  we  are  on  the  sad  subject  of  funerals,  we  may  as 
well  chronicle  the  death,  in  1774,  of  Mrs.  Douglass, 
who,  as  Mrs.  Hallam,  had  been  one  of  the  little  band 
of  pioneers  sailing  on  the  Charming  Sally  at  the  very 
dawn  of  dramatic  history  in  America.  The  paper 
which  reported  her  death  referred  to  her  as  "  wife  of  Mr. 
Douglass,  manager  of  the  American  Company  of  Come- 
dians, mother  of  Mr.  Lewis  Hallam  and  of  Mrs.  Mattocks, 

JThat  Mrs.  Harman,  though  an  actress,  so  lived  her  life  as  to  be 
pronounced  "sensible"  by  the  hostile  press  of  that  day,  proves  that 
there  is  not  nearly  so  much  in  heredity  as  some  would  have  us  think. 
For  her  father  was  a  musician  without  character  or  reputation,  and 
her  mother  was  one  of  the  most  erratic  creatures  in  all  stage  history. 
Married  young,  Charlotte  Gibber  soon  fell  out  with  her  husband  and 
enlisted  in  the  profession  of  her  father.  Both  at  the  Haymarket  and 
at  Drury  Lane  she  held  positions  at  a  good  salary,  but  her  violent  temper 
caused  her  to  quarrel  with  the  management  and  she  then  became,  first, 
a  writer,  and  afterwards  a  strolling  player.  Her  own  story  of  her  life 
shows  this  extraordinary  creature  as  successively  a  grocer,  a  keeper  of  a 
puppet-show,  a  vendor  of  sausages  and  a  waiter  at  the  King's  Head 
Tavern  in  Marylebone.  She  also  obtained  employment  on  the  stage 
disguised  as  a  man  and,  still  masquerading,  secured  a  place  as  valet- 
de-chambre  for  a  nobleman.  Dibdin  pronounces  her  "  a  sort  of  English 
D'Eon,"  evidently  under  the  impression,  as  were  many  of  his  contempo- 
raries, that  D'Eon  was  in  truth  a  woman  and  not  a  man,  as  was  proved 
by  a  post-mortem  examination  of  his  remains.  See  my  "  Romantic 
Days  In  the  Early  Republic,"  p.  351. 

42 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

of  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  and  aunt  of  Miss  Hallam." 
It  further  declared  her  "  a  lady,  who,  by  her  excellent 
performances  upon  the  stage  and  her  irreproachable 
manners  in  private  life,  had  recommended  herself  to  the 
friendship  and  affection  of  many  of  the  principal  families 
on  the  Continent  and  in  the  West  Indies."  That  this 
worthy  woman  should  have  died  before  the  outbreak 
of  the  Revolution,  in  Philadelphia,  where  the  attitude 
towards  players  was  always  a  comparatively  friendly 
one,  seems  a  kind  dispensation  of  Providence.  It  is  very 
pleasant  to  read  that  all  the  ladies  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Fifth  and  South  Streets  attended  her  funeral,  and 
that  she  was  buried  with  impressive  ceremonies  in  the 
grounds  of  the  Second  Presbyterian  Church  at  Third  and 
Arch  Streets.  For  she  had  done  rather  more  than  a 
woman's  part  towards  establishing  the  theatre  as  a 
dignified  institution  in  America. 


43 


CHAPTER  II 

EARLY  UPS  AND  DOWNS  OF  THE  THEATRE  IN  THE  SOUTH 

IT  was  in  Williamsburg,  then  the  capital  of  Virginia, 
that  there  occurred,  in  1718,  the  first  known  representa- 
tion in  North  America  of  what  the  purists  of  our  time 
characterize  as  "  the  acted  drama."  Reference  to  this 
performance  may  be  found  in  a  letter  of  Governor 
Spottiswood  dated  June  24,  1718,  it  being  therein  made 
clear  that  certain  members  of  the  House  of  Assembly 
had  slighted  an  invitation  given  them  by  the  Governor 
for  an  entertainment  at  his  house.  These  gentlemen,  he 
writes,  had  denied  him  "  the  common  compliment  of  a 
visit  when,  in  order  to  solemnizing  of  His  Majesty's 
birthday,  I  gave  a  public  entertainment  at  my  house,  and 
all  gentlemen  that  would  come  were  admitted.''  These 
eight  committeemen,"  he  continues,  "  would  neither 
come  to  my  house  nor  go  to  the  play  which  was  acted  on 
the  occasion."  They  preferred  instead,  it  would  seem, 
to  have  a  party  of  their  own  in  the  House  of  Burgesses 
and  invite  in  everybody  who  would  come  there  to  drink 
the  king's  health! 

What  the  play  here  referred  to  was  or  where  it  was 
performed,  we  do  not  know,  but  Judge  Daly,  to  whose 
researches  concerning  the  early  theatres  in  America 

44 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

allusions  have  previously  been  made,  conjectures  that 
the  performance  to  which  the  Governor  graciously  lent 
his  support  was  one  of  those  given  in  that  Williamsburg 
theatre  to  which  Graham  refers  as  "the first  institution 
of  the  kind  in  the  British  colonies."  In  all  probability 
Graham  1  was  quoting,  in  this  paragraph,  from  Hugh 
Jones's  "  The  Present  State  of  Virginia  "  (published  in 
London  in  1724).  Jones,  at  any  rate,  makes  mention  in 
his  book  of  the  existence  of  a  "  Play  House  "  in  Williams- 
burg  thus  early;  and  since  Jones  had  been  away  from 
Virginia  for  two  years,  when  he  published  his  book  in 
London,  we  seem  to  have  a  theatre  an  established  fact 
in  Williamsburg  as  early  as  1722. 

This  is  not  so  astonishing  as  would  at  first  appear  when 
we  bear  in  mind  that  the  men  and  women  who  settled 
Virginia  were  a  very  different  people  from  the  Puritans 
of  New  England.  It  was  not  for  the  sake  of  enjoying, 
unmolested,  "  freedom  to  worship  God  "  that  they  had 
fled  to  America;  they  brought  with  them  none  of  that 
repugnance  to  stage  plays  which  so  long  marked  the  New 
England  colonists.  They  were,  indeed,  in  the  words  of 
Bancroft,  "  a  continuation  of  English  society,  who  were 
attached  to  the  monarchy,  with  a  deep  reverence  for 
the  English  church  and  a  love  for  England  and  English 
institutions."  That  the  theatre  was  one  of  the  most 
cherished  of  "  English  institutions  "  was  convincingly 
shown,  I  think,  in  our  opening  chapter. 

To  be  sure,  Williamsburg  had  only  a  small  resident 

1  In  his  "  History  of  the  United  States  of  North  America;  "  London, 
1736- 

45 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

population  at  this  time.  But  this  would  not  necessarily 
imply  that  plays  and  a  playhouse  might  not  have  nour- 
ished there.  For  it  was  the  capital  of  a  widely  extended 
province.  It  was  here  that  the  Governor  resided,  here 
where  the  Legislature  assembled,  here  that  the  Law 
Courts  were  held,  and  the  prosperous  planters  of  the  day 
came  for  periods  of  recreation.  Even  at  the  early  date 
when  Jones's  history  was  written,  he  asserts  that  the 
people  of  Williamsburg  lived  "  in  the  same  neat  manner, 
dress  after  the  same  modes,  and  behave  themselves 
exactly  as  the  gentry  of  London."  And  Cooke,  in  his 
"  History  of  the  People  of  Virginia  "  shows  the  Williams- 
burg  of  only  a  little  later  to  have  been  the  centre  of  all 
that  was  brilliant  and  attractive  in  Virginia  society. 

"  It  was,"  he  says,  "  the  habit  of  the  planters  to  go 
there  with  their  families  at  this  season,  to  enjoy  the 
pleasures  of  the  Capital,  and  one  of  the  highways, 
Gloucester,  was  an  animated  spectacle  of  coaches  and 
four,  containing  the  nabobs  and  their  dames;  of  maidens 
in  silk  and  lace,  with  high-heeled  shoes  and  clocked 
stockings.  All  these  people  were  engaged  in  attending 
the  assemblies  held  at  the  palace,  in  dancing  at  the 
Apollo,  in  snatching  the  pleasures  of  the  moment,  and 
enjoying  life  under  a  regime  that  seemed  mad  for  en- 
joyment. .  .  .  The  violins  seemed  to  be  ever  playing 
for  the  diversion  of  the  youths  and  maidens;  cocks  were 
fighting,  horsemen  riding,  students  mingled  in  the  throng 
in  their  academic  dress,  and  his  Serene  Excellency  went 
to  open  the  House  of  Burgesses  in  his  coach,  drawn  by 
six  milk-white  horses.  It  was  a  scene  full  of  gaiety  and 
abandon.  Williamsburg  was  never  more  brilliant  than 
at  this  period." 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

.  Obviously  just  the  place  to  support,  for  many  months 
in  the  year  at  least,  so  inspiriting  an  institution  as  a 
theatre!  For  in  London,  from  which  Williamsburg  took 
its  tone,  the  stage,  it  must  be  recalled,  was  at  this  time 
in  high  favour.  The  licentiousness  that  had  long  pre- 
vailed in  the  plays  and  players  was  rapidly  passing  away, 
and  a  better  class  of  people  now  went  to  the  theatre  than 
had  ever  done  so  before.  It  was  of  this  period  that  Addi- 
son  wrote: 

"  I  cannot  be  of  the  opinion  of  the  reformers  of  man- 
ners in  their  severity  toward  plays;  but  must  allow  that 
a  good  play,  acted  before  a  well-bred  -audience,  must 
raise  very  proper  incitement  to  good  behaviour,  and  be 
the  most  quick  and  the  most  prevailing  method  of  giving 
young  people  a  turn  of  sense  and  breeding.  When  the 
character  drawn  by  a  judicious  poet,"  he  continues,  "  is 
presented  by  the  person,  the  manner,  the  look  and  the 
motion  of  an  accomplished  player,  what  may  not  be 
brought  to  pass  by  seeing  generous  things  performed 
before  our  eyes?  The  stage  is  the  mirror  of  human  life; 
let  me,  therefore,  recommend  the  oft  use  of  a  theatre  as 
the  most  agreeable  and  easy  method  of  making  a  polite 
and  moral  gentry,  which  would  end  in  rendering  the 
rest  of  the  people  regular  in  their  behaviour  and  ambi- 
tious of  laudable  undertakings." 

Addison  was  highly  regarded  in  Williamsburg,  so 
highly  regarded  in  fact  that  his  "  Cato  "  was  per- 
formed by  the  college  students  on  September  10, 
1736.  The  advertisement  setting  forth  this  interesting 
fact  may  be  found  in  the  Virginia  Gazette  of  that 
day. 

47 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theaire 
"  ADVERTISEMENT 

"  This  evening  will  be  performed  at  the  Theatre 
by  the  young  Gentlemen  of  the  College,  the  '  Tragedy 
of  Cato,'  and  on  Monday,  Wednesday  and  Friday  will 
be  acted  the  following  comedies  by  the  young  Gentle- 
men and  Ladies  of  this  country  —  '  The  Busybody/  the 
'  Recruiting  Officer '  and  the  '  Beaux'  Stratagem.' ' 

From  the  latter  part  of  this  notice,  authority  is  de- 
rived for  belief  that  Williamsburg  had  an  organized 
company  of  some  kind  acting  English  comedy  at  least 
sixteen  years  earlier  than  the  date  given  by  Dunlap  as 
the  natal  day  of  the  theatre  in  America.  Seilhamer  makes 
much  of  this  notice,  and  so  scathingly  condemns  Dunlap 
for  not  having  found  it,  as  he  did,  in  the  files  of  the 
Virginia  Gazette,  that  he  has  the  appearance  of  discred- 
iting quite  ungenerously  the  first  historian  of  the  Amer- 
ican theatre.  I  do  not  see  the  need  of  calling  Dunlap 
hard  names;  he  was  so  very  happy  in  his  firm  belief 
that  the  Hallams,  one  of  whom  he  knew  well,  had  intro- 
duced the  drama  into  America !  And  it  was,  in  very 
truth,  a  pretty  theory.  John  Esten  Cooke  liked  it  so 
much  that  he  has  given  us,  in  his  "  Virginia  Comedians," 
a  picture  of  just  what  may  have  happened  in  the  Williams- 
burg  theatre  when  the  Hallam  company  were  playing 
"  Merchant  of  Venice  "  there.  To  be  sure,  he  makes  the 
date  1763  instead  of  1752,  and  gives  Mr.  Hallam,  whom 
he  describes  as  "  a  fat  little  man  of  fifty  or  fifty-five  with 
a  rubicund  and  somewhat  sensual  face,"  the  part  of 
Bassanio  instead  of  that  of  Launcelot  Gobbo.  Moreover, 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

he  makes  Miss  Hallam,  who  played  Jessica  ("  her  first 
appearance  on  any  stage  "),  take  the  part  of  Portia, 
which  Mrs.  Hallam  really  sustained.  And  in  the  place 
of  Mr.  Malone,  who  played  Shylock,  he  introduces  a 
fictitious  Mr.  Pugsby.  None  the  less,  it  is  a  valuable 
service  he  does  us  in  depicting  Williamsburg  society 
as  it  quite  probably  looked  when  enjoying  this  early 
play  at  its  first  theatre. 

"  The  '  old  theatre  near  the  capitol/  discoursed  of  in 
the  manifesto  issued  by  Mr.  Manager  Hallam,  was  so 
far  old''  he  writes,  "  that  the  walls  were  well  browned 
by  time,  and  the  shutters  to  the  windows  of  a  pleasant 
neutral  tint  between  rust  and  dust  color.  The  building 
had,  no  doubt,  been  used  for  the  present  purpose  in  by- 
gone times,  before  the  days  of  the  Virginia  Gazette, 
which  is  our  authority  for  many  of  the  facts  here  stated 
in  relation  to  the  '  Virginia  Company  of  Comedians; ' 
but  of  the  former  company  of  l  players/  as  my  Lord 
Hamlet  calls  them,  and  their  successes  and  misfortunes, 
printed  words  tell  us  nothing.  .  .  .  That  there  had  been 
companies  before,  however,  we  repeat,  there  is  some 
reason  to  believe;  else  why  that  addition  '  old  '  applied 
to  the  '  theatre  near  the  capital.' 

"  Within,  the  play-house  presented  a  somewhat  more 
attractive  appearance.  There  was  a  l  box/  l  pit '  and 
1  gallery/  as  in  our  own  day;  and  the  relative  prices 
were  arranged  in  much  the  same  manner.  The  common 
mortals  —  gentlemen  and  ladies  —  were  forced  to  occupy 
the  boxes  raised  slightly  above  the  level  of  the  stage  and 
hemmed  in  by  velvet-cushioned  railings  —  in  front  of  a 
flower-decorated  panel  extending  all  around  the  house 
—  and  for  this  position  they  were  moreover  compelled 
to  pay  an  admission  fee  of  seven  shillings  and  sixpence. 

49 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

The  demigods  —  so  to  speak  —  occupied  a  more  eligible 
portion  in  the  '  pit/  from  which  they  could  procure  a 
highly  excellent  view  of  the  actors'  feet  and  ankles,  just 
on  a  level  with  their  noses;  to  conciliate  the  demigods 
this  superior  advantage  had  been  offered,  and  the  price 
for  them  was  further  still  reduced  to  five  shillings.  But 
1  the  gods/  in  truth,  were  the  real  favorites  of  the  man- 
ager. To  attract  them  he  arranged  the  high  upper 
'  gallery  '  and  left  it  untouched,  unencumbered  by  rail- 
ings, velvet  cushions,  or  any  other  device;  all  was  free 
space  and  liberal  as  the  air;  there  were  no  troublesome 
seats  for  '  the  gods/  and  three  shillings  and  ninepence 
all  that  the  manager  would  demand.  The  honor  of  their 
presence  was  enough.  .  .  .  From  the  boxes  a  stairway 
led  down  to  the  stage,  and  some  rude  scenes,  visible  at 
the  edges  of  the  curtain,  completed  the  outfit." 

So  much  for  the  theatre.  And  now  let  us  be  introduced 
to  the  dramatis  personae  of  the  book.  One  of  the  prin- 
cipal characters  in  the  novel  is  a  young  Virginian,  Mr. 
Effingham,  who,  after  a  visit  and  some  stay  at  Oxford 
and  in  London,  has  returned  to  the  paternal  home, 
Effingham  Hall,  in  Virginia,  and  while  riding  to  visit  a 
manorial  estate  on  a  plantation  known  as  Riverhead,  — 
whose  owner,  named  Lee,  has  the  felicity  to  be  the 
father  of  two  attractive  daughters,  —  suddenly  draws 
up  his  horse  upon  seeing  before  him  in  the  road  a  young 
lady  whom  the  novelist  thus  describes: 

"  The  rider  was  a  young  girl  of  about  eighteen  and  of 
rare  and  extraordinary  beauty.  Her  hair  —  so  much 
of  it  as  was  visible  beneath  her  hood  —  seemed  to  be 
dark  chestnut  and  her  complexion  was  dazzling.  The 
eyes  were  large,  full  and  dark  —  instinct  with  fire  and 

50 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

softness,  feminine  modesty  and  collected  firmness,  the 
firmness,  however,  predominating.  But  the  lips  were 
different.  They  were  the  lips  of  a  child,  —  soft,  guileless, 
tender,  and  confiding;  they  were  purity  and  innocence 
itself,  and  seemed  to  say  that,  however  much  the  brain 
might  become  hard  and  worldly,  the  heart  of  this  young 
woman  never  could  be  other  than  the  tender  and  deli- 
cately sensitive  heart  of  a  child.  She  was  clad  in  a  riding- 
dress  of  pearl  color,  and,  from  the  uniformity  of  this 
tint,  it  seemed  to  be  a  favorite  with  her.  The  hood  was 
of  silk,  and  the  delicate,  gloved  hand  held  a  little  ivory- 
handled  riding  whip,  which  now  dangled  at  her  side. 
The  other  gloved  hand  supported  her  cheek;  and  in  this 
position  the  young  lady  calmly  awaited  Mr.  Efnngham's 
approach  still  nearer,  though  he  was  already  nearly 
touching  her. 

"  Mr.  Effingham  took  off  his  hat  and  bowed  with  ele- 
gant courtesy.  The  lady  returned  the  inclination  by  a 
graceful  movement  of  the  head. 

"  '  Would  you  be  kind  enough  to  point  out  the  road  to 
the  town  of  Williamsburg,  sir?  '  she  said  in  a  calm  and 
clear  voice. 

"  l  With  great  pleasure,  madam/  replied  Mr.  Effing- 
ham.  '  You  have  lost  your  way?  ' 

"  l  Yes,  sir,  and  very  strangely;  and,  as  the  evening 
drew  on,  I  was  afraid  of  being  benighted/ 

"  l  You  have  but  to  follow  the  road  until  you  reach 
Effingham  Hall,  madam/  he  said,  — '  the  house  in  the 
distance  yonder;  then  turn  to  the  left,  and  you  are  in 
the  highway  to  town/ 

"  l  Thanks,  sir/  the  young  girl  said,  with  another  calm 
inclination  of  her  head,  and  she  touched  her  horse  with 
the  whip. 

'  But  cannot  I  accompany  you?  '  asked  Mr.  Effing- 
ham, whose  curiosity  was  greatly  aroused,  and  found  his 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

eyes,  he  knew  not  why,  riveted  to  the  rare  beauty  of  his 
companion's  face;  l  do  you  not  need  me  as  a  guide?  ' 

"  *  Indeed,  I  think  not,  sir/  she  said  with  the  same 
calmness.  '  Your  direction  is  very  plain,  and  I  am  ac- 
customed to  ride  by  myself.' 

" '  But  really,'  began  Mr.  Effingham,  somewhat 
piqued,  '  I  know  it  is  intrusive  —  I  know  I  have  not  the 
honor  —  ' 

"  She  interrupted  him  with  her  immovable  calmness. 

"  '  You  would  say  that  you  do  not  know  me  and  that 
your  offer  is  intrusive.  I  believe,  sir,  I  do  not  consider 
it  so  —  it  is  very  kind ;  but  I  am  not  a  fearful  girl  and 
need  not  trouble  you  at  all.' 

"  And  so  bowed. 

"  l  One  moment,. madam,'  said  Mr.  Effingham;  '  I  am 
really  dying  with  curiosity  to  know  you.  'Tis  very  rude 
to  say  so,  of  course  —  but  I  am  acquainted  with  every 
lady  in  the  neighborhood,  and  I  do  not  recall  any  former 
occasion  upon  which  I  had  the  pleasure  — 

"  '  It  is  very  easily  explained,  sir.  I  do  not  live  in  the 
neighborhood  and  I  am  not  a  lady.' ' 

And  this  was  all  the  smitten  youth  could  find  out  — 
save  that  he  "  would  not  long  remain  in  ignorance  of 
her  identity  "  if  he  were  in  the  habit  of  frequently  visit- 
ing Williamsburg.  So,  somewhat  chagrined,  he  con- 
tinues on  his  way  to  Riverhead.  There  he  finds  a  copy 
of  the  Gazette  and,  looking  it  over,  comes  upon  the  notice 
that  "  Mr.  Hallam  and  his  Virginia  company  of  come- 
dians "  will  soon  perform  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice  " 
at  the  "  old  theatre  near  the  capitol."  It  is  thereupon 
arranged  that  Effingham,  accompanied  by  the  old 
gentleman  and  his  two  daughters,  will  be  on  hand  to 

52 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

welcome  the  players,  one  of  the  girls  slyly  insisting  that 
Mr.  Effingham  will  be  a  very  useful  companion,  inas- 
much as  he  could  "  tell  them  when  to  hiss  and  when  to 
applaud  —  being  just  from  London.' '  On  the  appointed 
evening  the  whole  party  is  eager  for  the  entertainment. 

"  When  Mr.  Lee  and  his  two  daughters  entered  the 
box,  which  had  been  reserved  for  them  next  the  stage, 
the  house  was  nearly  full  and  the  neatness  of  the  edifice 
was  lost  sight  of  in  the  sea  of  brilliant  ladies'  faces  and 
showy  forms  of  cavaliers  which  extended,  like  a  sea  of 
glittering  foam,  around  the  semicircle  of  the  boxes. 
The  pit  was  occupied  by  well-dressed  men  of  the  lower 
class,  as  the  times  had  it,  and  from  the  gallery  proceeded 
hoarse  murmurs  and  the  unforgotten  slang  of  London. 
Many  smiles  and  bows  were  interchanged  between  the 
parties  in  the  different  boxes,  and  the  young  gallants, 
following  the  fashion  of  the  day,  gathered  at  each  end 
of  the  stage,  and  often  walked  across  to  exchange  some 
polite  speech  with  the  smiling  dames  in  the  boxes  near- 
est." 

After  the  orchestra,  "  consisting  of  three  or  four 
foreign-looking  gentlemen,  bearded  and  moustached," 
had  done  what  they  could  in  the  way  of  preliminary 
entertainment,  the  manager  came  forward  in  the  costume 
of  Bassanio  and  recommended  himself  and  his  company 
to  the  "  aristocracy  of  the  great  and  noble  colony  of 
Virginia."  The  curtain  slowly  rolled  aloft,  and  the 
young  gallants  scattered  to  the  corners  of  the  stage,  seat- 
ing themselves  on  stools  or  chairs,  or  standing. 

The  scenes  between  Portia  and  Nerissa  in  the  first 
act  was  omitted  in  the  version  offered  by  the  Hallams, 

53 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

and  thus  it  was  not  until  the  second  act  that  Effingham 
saw  again  his  unknown  lady  of  the  woods,  whom  my 
readers  will,  of  course,  have  guessed  to  be  Beatrice 
Hallam.  "  She  was,  indeed,"  the  novelist  asserts,  "  no 
gentle  Virginia  maiden,  no  '  lady,'  as  she  had  said  with 
perfect  calmness  at  their  meeting."  Yet  young  Effing- 
ham  did  not,  on  this  account,  scan  her  the  less  atten- 
tively from  his  wicker  chair  in  the  corner  of  the  stage. 
"  Her  costume  was  faultless.  It  consisted  of  a  gown  and 
underskirt  of  fawn-colored  silk  trimmed  with  silver,  and 
a  single  band  of  gold  encircled  each  wrist,  clearly  re- 
lieved against  the  white,  finely-rounded  arm.  Her  hair, 
which  was  a  beautiful  chestnut,  had  been  carried  back 
from  her  temples  and  powdered  after  the  fashion  of  the 
time,  and  around  her  beautiful,  swan-like  neck  the  young 
woman  wore  a  necklace  of  pearls  of  rare  brilliancy." 

The  costume  of  the  character  having  thus  defied  criti- 
cism, Mr.  EfHngham  passed  on  to  the  face  and  figure. 
And  so  favourably  was  the  young  gallant  "  just  from 
London  "  impressed  by  these  and  by  the  acting  of  their 
owner  that,  a  little  later,  he  leaned  forward  and  touched 
her  sleeve. 

"  '  Come/  he  said,  with  easy  carelessness  and  scarcely 
moderating  his  voice.  l  Come,  fair  Portia,  while  that 
tiresome  fellow  is  making  his  speech,  and  talk  to  me  a 
little.  We  are  old  acquaintances,  and  you  are  indebted 
to  me  for  directing  you  home.' 

"  '  Yes,  sir/  said  Beatrice,  turning  her  head  slightly, 
'  but  pardon  me  —  I  have  my  part  to  attend  to.' 
1 1  don't  care.' 

"  '  Excuse  me,  sir,  I  do.' 

54 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  '  Really,  madam,  you  are  very  stiff  for  an  actress. 
Is  it  so  very  unusual  a  thing  to  ask  a  moment's  conver- 
sation? ' 

"  '  I  know  it  is  the  fashion  in  London  and  elsewhere, 
sir,  but  I  dislike  it.  It  destroys  my  conception  of  the 
character/  she  said  calmly." 

And  though  Effingham,  peeved,  continued  to  force 
conversation  upon  the  young  girl,  she  steadfastly  re- 
fuses to  reply  —  or  even  to  listen  to  him.    All  of  which 
is  true  in  spirit  if  not  in  detail.    For  never  in  America  \ 
were  the  fops  and  dandies  of  the  period  permitted  the  lib-    \ 
erties  on  the  stage  and  behind  the  scenes  which  they  had, 
from  time  immemorial,  claimed  and  obtained  in  London. 

Another  Southern  city  which  had  a  theatre  considerably  J 
earlier  than  either  Dunlap  or  Seilhamer  state,  was 
Charleston,  South  Carolina,  or,  as  it  was  written  then, 
Charles-Town.  A  writer  in  the  New  York  Times  of 
December  15,  1895,  gives  as  the  result  of  his  researches 
in  the  newspaper  files  of  the  Library  Society  in  Charles- 
ton, the  discovery  that  a  play  was  acted  in  that  city 
January  24,  1735.  The  advertisement  for  this  occasion 
reads : 

"  On  Friday,  the  24  inst.,  in  the  Court  Room,  will  be 
attempted  a  tragedy  called  '  The  Orphan  or  the  Unhappy 
Marriage/ 

"  Tickets  will  be  delivered  out  on  Tuesday  next,  at 
Mr.  Shepheard's  at  403.  each." 

Judge  Daly  points  out  that  though  forty  shillings 
seems  a  high  price  to  pay  for  seeing  "  The  Orphan,"  it 
really  may  not  have  been  high,  inasmuch  as  we  cannot 

55 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

tell  what  the  value  of  a  shilling  then  was  in  South  Caro- 
lina, compared  to  the  value  of  a  pound  sterling.  The 
price  of  a  box  ticket  at  Kean  and  Murray's  Theatre  in 
Nassau  Street,  New  York,  fifteen  years  afterwards,  was 
only  five  shillings,  New  York  currency,  about  the  value 
of  two  dollars  at  the  present  day.  From  the  fact  that 
this  Charleston  performance  of  "  The  Orphan  "  was 
repeated  twice,  we  must  conclude  that  the  theatre-goers 
of  the  town  did  not  regard  forty  shillings  as  too  high 
to  pay  for  a  theatrical  "  whistle."  The  prologue  used  on 
the  opening  night  is  quaint  enough,  I  think,  to  warrant 
reprinting. 

"^PROLOGUE 

"  When  first  Columbus  touch 'd  this  distant  shore, 
And  vainly  hoped  his  Fears  and  Dangers  o'er, 
One  boundless  Wilderness  in  view  appear'd 
No  Champain  Plains  or  rising  Cities  cheered 
His  wearied  Eye. 

Monsters  unknown  travers'd  the  hideous  Waste, 
And  men  more  savage  than  the  Beasts  they  chased. 
But  mark!    How  soon  these  gloomy  Prospects  clear, 
And  the  new  World's  late  horrors  disappear. 
The  Soil,  obedient  to  the  industrious  swains, 
What  happy  Harvests  crown  their  honest  Pains, 
What  various  products  float  on  every  Tide? 
What  numerous  navies  in  our  Harbours  ride? 
Tillage  and  Trade  conjoin  their  friendly  aid, 
T'  enrich  the  thriving  Boy  and  lovely  Maid, 
Hispania,  'tis  true,  her  precious  mines  engross'd, 
And  bore  her  shining  Entrails  to  its  Coast. 

56 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Britannia  more  humane  supplies  her  wants, 

The  British  sense  and  British  beauty  plants. 

The  aged  Sire  beholds  with  sweet  surprise 

In  foreign  climes  a  numerous  offspring  rise, 

Sense,  Virtue,  Worth,  and  Honour  stand  confest 

In  each  brave  male,  his  prosperous  hands  have  blessed, 

While  the  admiring  Eye  improved  may  trace, 

The  Mother's  Charms  in  each  chaste  Virgin's  face. 

Hence  we  presume  to  usher  in  those  Arts 

Which  oft  have  warm'd  the  best  and  bravest  Hearts. 

Faint  our  Endeavours,  wide  as  our  Essays, 

We  strive  to  please,  but  can't  pretend  to  Praise; 

Forgiving  Smiles  o'erpay  the  grateful  task, 

Those  all  we  hope  and  all  we  humbly  ask." 

So  generously  did  the  audience  to  which  this  perora- 
tion was  addressed  respond  in  "  Forgiving  Smiles  "  — 
and  in  admission  fees  —  that  there  were  presented  at 
Charleston  that  season,  besides  "  The  Orphan, "  a  "  new 
Pantomime  Entertainment  in  Grotesque  Characters 
called  l  The  Adventures  of  Harlequin  and  Scaramouch/ 
with  the  '  Burgo-Master  Trick'd; '  The  Opera  of  Flora 
or,  Hob  in  the  Well  with  the  Dance  of  the  two 
Pierrots  and  a  new  Pantomime  Entertainment  and 
'  The  Spanish  Fryar,'  or  '  The  Double  Discovery.'  " 
That  the  season  was  a  success  one  must  conclude  from 
the  fact  that  on  May  3  the  following  advertisement 
appeared : 

"  Any  gentlemen  that  are  disposed  to  encourage  the 
exhibition  of  plays  next  Winter,  may  have  the  sight  of 
the  proposals  for  a  subscription  at  Mr.  Shepheard's  in 

57 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Broad  Street.  And  any  persons  that  are  desirous  of 
having  a  share  in  the  performance  thereof,  upon  appli- 
cation to  Mr.  Shepheard  shall  receive  a  satisfactory 
answer.  N.  B.  —  The  subscription  will  be  closed  the 
last  day  of  this  month." 

Eight  months  later  another  advertisement  may  be 
found  in  the  South  Carolina  Gazette,  which  would  seem  to 
indicate  that  the  "  proposals  "  above  referred  to  had 
borne  fruit.  For  it  is  announced  that: 

"  On  Thursday,  the  i2th  of  February,  will  be  opened 
the  new  theatre  in  Dock  street,  in  which  will  be  per- 
formed the  comedy  called  the  '  Recruiting  Officer.' 

"  Tickets  for  the  pitt  and  boxes  will  be  delivered  at 
Mr.  Charles  Shepheard's,  on  Thursday,  the  5th  of  Feb- 
ruary. Boxes,  305;  pitt,  205;  and  tickets  for  the  gallery, 
155,  which  will  be  delivered  at  the  theatre  the  day  of 
playing. 

"  N.  B.  The  doors  will  be  opened  all  the  afternoon. 
The  Subscribers  are  desired  to  send  to  the  stage  door  in 
the  forenoon  to  bespeak  places,  otherwise  it  will  be  too 
late." 

During  this  season  plays  were  produced  in  Charleston 
at  the  rate  of  one  a  week ;  but  the  venture  did  not  prosper, 
for  all  that,  and  the  Gazette  of  the  last  week  in  May  con- 
tains this  epigram: 

"ON  THE  SALE  OF  THE  THEATRE 

"  How  cruel  Fortune,  and  how  fickle  too, 
To  crop  the  Method  made  for  making  you! 
Changes  tho'  common,  yet  when  great  they  prove, 
Make  men  distrust  the  care  of  Mighty  Jove; 

58 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Half  made  in  thought  (though  not  in  fact)  we  find 
You  bought  and  sold,  but  left  poor  H.  behind. 
P.  S.  —  Since  so  it  is  ne'er  mind  the  silly  trick, 
The  pair  will  please,  when  Pierrot  makes  you  sick." 

The  wit  and  appositeness  of  this  effusion  is  quite  lost 
upon  us  of  to-day.  But  its  appearance  in  the  South >v 
Carolina  Gazette  establishes  beyond  peradventure  the  lS 
fact  that  Charleston  possessed  a  theatre  nearly  forty  [J 
years  earlier  than  has  been  generally  believed.  Charles- 
ton was  a  rapidly  growing  town  at  this  time,  and  like 
all  such,  had  a  fine  sense  of  the  value  of  names.  Hence 
what  had  been  "  the  theatre  in  Dock  street  "  is  soon 
"  the  playhouse  in  Queen  street."  And  here  ere  long  a 
ball  is  being  advertised  as  well  as  another  production, 
"  at  the  request  of  the  Ancient  and  Honourable  Society 
of  Free  and  Accepted  Masons,"  of  the  "  Recruiting 
Officer/'  a  piece  which  was  much  enjoyed  by  eighteenth- 
century  audiences.  The  advertising  columns  of  the 
Gazette  contain  two  more  allusions  to  this  theatre - 
which  probably  stood  on  the  lot  of  land  later  occupied 
by  the  rear  portion  of  the  old  Planters'  Hotel,  within  less 
than  a  hundred  yarcfs  of  the  Huguenot  and  St.  Philip's 
churches.  The  first  notice,  dated  October  3,  1748, 
sets  forth  the  virtues  of  a  school  "  over  against  the  Play 
House,"  and  another,  dated  October  3,  1754,  announces 
that  a  company  of  comedians  from  London  will  give 
the  "  Fair  Penitent,"  tickets  for  which  might  be  had  of 
"  Mr.  John  Remington  and  at  the  printer's." 

"  The  Recruiting  Officer,"  it  will  be  recalled,  was  the 
play  with  which  the  New  Theatre  in  New  York  opened 

59 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

J  in  1732.  Thus  it  was  the  earliest  play  known  to  have 
been  acted  in  North  America.  That  it  was  also  acted 
in  Williamsburg  and  in  Charleston  in  1736  entitles  it  to 
more  than  passing  mention  here.  Written  by  George 
Farquhar,  who  with  Wycherly,  Congreve,  and  Vanbrugh 
ranks  as  a  leading  comic  dramatist  of  the  Restoration, 
its  wit,  sprightliness,  and  plot  are  all  of  a  kind  scarcely 
to  be  tolerated  on  any  stage  to-day.  Yet,  Leigh  Hunt,  a 
very  competent  critic,  praised  it  highly  for  its  character- 
ization and  for  its  charm  of  gaiety  and  good  humour. 
New  York  had  a  chance  to  taste  these  qualities  for  it- 
self in  1843  and  again  on  February  8,  1885,  the  comedy 
being  then  revived  by  Mr.  Augustin  Daly  and  played 
as  nearly  as  possible  after  the  manner  of  its  original 
production  at  Drury  Lane  in  1706,  when  Nance  Old- 
field  acted  the  part  of  Sylvia.  The  eyes  through  which 
this  New  York  revival  was  viewed  are  not  so  different 
from  intelligently  critical  eyes  of  our  own  day  that  a 
reprint  of  a  newspaper  notice  of  the  performance  by  one 
of  the  New  York  critics  next  day  should  be  lacking 
in  interest. 

The  Recruiting  Officer 

Captain  Plume Mr.  Drew 

Captain  Brazen Mr.  Parkes 

Justice  Balance Mr.  Fisher 

Sergeant  Kite Mr.  Lewis 

Mr.  Worthy Mr.  Skinner 

Bullock Mr.  Gilbert 

Appletree Mr.  Bond 

Pearman Mr.  Wilks 

60 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Balance's  Steward Mr.  Beekman 

Mistress  Melinda Miss  Virginia  Dreher 

Rose Miss  May  Fielding 

Lucy Miss  May  Irwin 

Sylvia Miss  Ada  Rehan 

"  '  I  am  called  Captain,  sir,  by  all  the'  drawers  and 
room-porters  in  London/  said  Miss  Ada  Rehan  at 
Daly's  Theatre  last  night.  And  bravely  she  wore  her 
red  coat  and  sword,  the  martial  twist  in  her  cravat,  the 
fierce  knot  in  her  periwig,  the  cane  upon  her  button  and 
the  dice  in  her  pocket.  The  audience  was  in  ecstasies. 

"  It  was  a  revival  of  l  The  Recruiting  Officer,'  by 
George  Farquhar.  The  manners  of  Queen  Anne's  day 
were  reproduced  on  Mr.  Daly's  stage.  Captain  Plume 
and  Sergeant  Kite  were  enlisting  the  country  lads  and 
playing  court  to  the  country  lassies.  Justice  Balance 
was  keeping  watch  over  the  morals  of  his  daughter 
Sylvia.  Sprightly  Mistress  Melinda  was  intriguing  for 
the  hand  of  young  Worthy.  Brazen  was  bragging  of  his 
service  in  Flanders  against  the  French  and  in  Hungary 
against  the  Turks.  The  atmosphere  was  charged  with 
love,  and  the  stage  resounded  with  the  tap  of  the  drum. 
'  The  audience  was  in  a  curious  and  observant  mood. 
The  doings  on  the  stage  were  of  a  wholly  unfamiliar  kind. 
The  language  sounded  strangely  fantastic  to  modern 
ears.  Ladies  held  their  breath  at  the  bygone  sentiment 
of  the  play.  Men  met  in  groups  between  the  acts  and 
wondered  what  was  the  secret  of  its  original  success. 
Its  secret  was  tolerably  simple.  It  was  written  at  the 
time  of  Marlborough's  earlier  victories.  Blenheim  had 
just  been  won.  A  military  fervor  possessed  the  country. 
Rustics  went  marching  round  the  fields  with  ribbons  in 
their  caps.  The  recruiting  officer  was  seen  in  every 
town.  The  popular  song  of  the  hour  was : 

61 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  '  Over  the  hill  and  over  the  main 
To  Flanders,  Portugal  and  Spain; 
The  Queen  commands  and  we'll  obey; 
Over  the  hills  and  far  away.' 

"  Moreover,  there  was  a  steady  flow  of  indecency 
in  the  comedy.  The  town  had  been  growing  dull.  Con- 
greve  had  retired  into  the  intimacy  of  the  Duchess  of 
Marlborough.  Wycherly  was  writing  feeble  poems  under 
the  tutorship  of  that  rising  young  man,  Alexander  Pope. 
Vanbrugh  was  giving  his  attention  to  architecture. 
Jeremy  Collier  and  his  moral  tractate  had  exorcised  the 
merry  devils  off  the  stage  and  the  pit  mourned  their 
departure.  So  '  The  Recruiting  Officer,'  with  its  broad 
jests,  was  particularly  welcome.  Captain  Plume,  with  his 
amorous  devices,  became  the  ideal  of  the  army,  and 
pretty  Rose,  with  her  chickens,  furnished  laughter  for 
the  mess-room  and  the  coffee-houses. 

"  Human  nature  has  not  much  changed.  Mr.  Daly's 
audience  last  night  was  as  fashionable  an  audience  as 
could  be  gathered  in  the  city.  Yet  the  few  suggestive 
lines  which  he  has  left  in  the  piece  excited  the  loudest 
laugh.  Americans  are  not  so  squeamish  with  these  old 
plays.  They  know  that  the  comedies  of  the  Restoration 
were  not  models  of  propriety.  They  know  that  George 
Farquhar,  the  rollicking  Irish  captain,  was  not  a  preacher 
of  morality.  And  if  the  piece  hung  fire  at  times,  if  it 
seemed  a  trifle  heavy  and  monotonous,  it  was  because 
the  spectators  had  been  credited  with  a  prudery  which 
they  did  not  seem  to  possess. 

"  The  company  was  a  little  out  of  its  element.  Mr. 
Drew,  in  particular,  should  have  been  livelier  and  airier, 
conducting  his  love  affairs  with  as  light  a  touch  as 
Charles  Mathews  might  have  conducted  them  in  other 
days,  or  Mr.  Wallack  to-day.  Mr.  Fisher,  too,  pressed 

62 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

with  too  heavy  a  hand  on  such  niceties  of  character  as 
have  been  discovered  in  Justice  Balance;  and  Mr.  James 
Lewis,  though  discreet  and  refined  in  his  humor,  ex- 
tracted none  of  the  exuberant  fun  from  Sergeant  Kite 
with  which  critics  of  the  past  have  supposed  that  un- 
scrupulous personage  to  overflow.  Mr.  Skinner  was  a 
dignified  young  lover  and  Mr.  Parkes  amused  as  Brazen. 
But  the  honors  of  the  evening  rested  with  Miss  Virginia 
Dreher,  who  looked  radiantly  beautiful  in  a  web  of  lace 
and  gold,  and  with  Miss  Ada  Rehan,  who  had  the  bold 
step,  the  rakish  toss  and  the  impudent  air  of  your  true 
military  gallant.  She  was  not  Peg  Woffington,  perhaps, 
but  she  was  a  charming  woman  in  disguise  and  the  town 
will  be  curious  to  see  her." 


Why  early  playgoers  in  the  South  liked  this  comedy 
will  be  easily  understood.  Captain  Plume  was,  for  many 
years,  a  part  particularly  favoured  by  dashing  young 
actors  endowed  with  handsome  face,  a  fine  person,  and  in- 
gratiating manners.  Farquhar  had  pictured  himself  while 
writing  this  character,  and  Wilks,  his  near  friend,  and  the 
most  distinguished  actor  of  the  time  on  the  English  stage, 
first  gave  it  life.  It  is  probable  that  many  of  the  young 
Southerners  who  frequented  the  playhouses  of  Virginia 
and  South  Carolina  were  "  just  from  London,"  like 
the  Mr.  Effingham  of  Cooke's  novel,  and  so  had  radiant 
memories  of  the  play  as  given  over  there. 

The  comedies  of  Farquhar  and  his  contemporaries  were 
produced  considerably  more  often,  in  the  South  of  this 
period,  than  the  plays  of  Shakespeare.  In  the  list  of 
plays  brought  out  at  the  Charleston  Theatre  in  1773- 
1774,  the  name  of  Shakespeare  appears  only  ten  times 

63 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

in  a  season  of  fifty-nine  nights,  while  from  a  similar  list, 
published  in  the  Maryland  Gazette  at  the  close  of  David 
Douglass's  Annapolis  season  of  1760,  Shakespeare  is 
seen  to  have  been  played  only  four  out  of  twenty-eight 
nights.  Sellhamer  prints  in  full  both  the  lists  to  which 
reference  is  here  made,  and  which  are  of  distinct  interest, 
in  that  they  supply  the  most  complete  records  extant  of 
these  theatrical  seasons  before  the  Revolution.  The  fact 
that  two  editors  in  two  different  Southern  States  saw 
fit  to  give  as  much  space  to  things  theatrical  as  these  two 
lists  take  up  in  their  columns,  shows  conclusively  that 
the  attitude  of  the  South  towards  the  theatre  was  much 
more  enlightened  at  this  time  than  that  of  other  sec- 
tions. 

Nearly  everything  that  then  held  the  stage  was  pro- 
duced at  least  once  during  this  Charleston  season  of 
1773-1774.  Nine  of  Shakespeare's  masterpieces  were 
given  —  including  "  Julius  Caesar,"  for  the  first  time  in 
America;  *  eight  of  Garrick's  productions,  several  of  Bick- 
erstaff's  operas,  Goldsmith's  "She  Stoops  to  Conquer.," 
and  the  most  successful  works  of  Congreve,  Dry  den,  Van- 
brugh,  Farquhar,  Colley  Cibber,  Whitehead,  Otway, 
and  Addison.  Theatrical  happenings  in  Charleston  at 
this  period  looked  so  important  as  news,  too,  that  we  find 
Rivington's  New  York  Gazette,  the  best  newspaper  of 
the  time,  in  the  modern  sense,  noticing  the  opening  of 
the  Charleston  Theatre!  A  correspondent  appears,  in- 
deed, to  have  been  present  on  this  interesting  occasion, 
for  Hallam's  acting  is  highly  praised,  the  reviewer  then 

1  April  20,  1774. 

64 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

going  on  to  remark:  "The  house  is  elegantly  finished 
and  supposed  for  the  size  to  be  the  most  commodious 
on  the  continent.  The  scenes,  which  are  new  and  well 
designed,  the  dresses,  the  music,  and  what  had  a  very 
pleasant  effect,  the  disposition  of  the  lights,  all  contribu- 
ted to  the  satisfaction  of  the  audience,  who  expressed 
the  highest  approbation  of  their  entertainment." 

Even  at  the  end  of  the  season  the  Charlestonians  were 
delighted  with  their  play-going  privileges  —  which  does 
not  always  happen.  In  the  South  Carolina  Gazette  of 
May  30,  1774,  may  be  found  the  following: 

"CLOSE  OF  THE   CHARLESTON  SEASON 

"  On  Friday  last  the  theatre  which  opened  here  the 
22d  of  December  was  closed.  Warmly  countenanced 
and  supported  by  the  public,  the  manager  and  his  com- 
pany were  excited  to  the  most  strenuous  efforts  to  render 
their  entertainments  worthy  of  so  respectable  a  patron- 
age. .  .  .  The  exertions  of  the  American  Company  have 
been  uncommon  and  justly  entitles  them  to  those  marks 
of  public  favor  that  have  for  so  many  years  stampt  a 
merit  in  their  performances.  The  choice  of  plays  hath 
been  allowed  to  be  very  judicious,  the  directors  having 
selected  from  the  most  approved  English  poets  such 
pieces  as  possess  in  the  highest  degree  the  utile  dulce, 
and  while  they  entertain,  improve  the  mind  by  convey- 
ing the  most  useful  lessons  of  industry  and  virtue.  The 
company  have  separated  until  the  winter  when  the  New 
York  Theatre  will  be  opened.  Mr.  Hallam  being  em- 
barked for  England  to  engage  some  recruits  for  that 
service.  The  year  after,  they  will  perform  at  Philadel- 
phia and  in  the  winter  following  we  may  expect  them  here 
with  a  theatrical  force  hitherto  unknown  in  America." 

65 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Unhappily,  this  alluring  promise  was  not  fulfilled. 
For  the  Continental  Congress,  on  October  24,  1774, 
passed  a  resolution  recommending  the  suspension  of  all 
public  amusements.  Information  of  this  resolution  was 
conveyed  to  Manager  Douglass  in  a  letter  from  no 
less  person  than  Peyton  Randolph,  the  President  of  the 
Congress.  So,  willy  nilly,  Douglass  played  no  more 
just  then  before  lovers  of  the  drama  in  the  South. 

Before  we  leave  this  period,  however,  we  must  go 
back  a  bit  to  take  notice  of  a  brief  season  during  which 
the  American  company  played  at  Annapolis  in  1770. 
"  Cymbeline  "  was  one  of  the  plays  then  produced,  and 
the  Miss  Hallam,  who  in  1752  had  made  her  "  first  ap- 
pearance on  any  stage  "  at  Williamsburg  as  Jessica,  was 
now  an  Imogen  of  such  charm  as  to  elicit  this  very  enthu- 
siastic praise  from  "  Y.  Z."  in  the  Maryland  Gazette. 

"Miss  HALLAM  AS  IMOGEN.  —  To  the  Printer:  — 
As  I  make  it  a  matter  of  conscience  to  do  justice  to 
merit  to  the  utmost  of  my  abilities  in  whatever  walk  of 
life  I  chance  to  discover  it,  I  shall  take  the  liberty  of 
publishing  through  the  channel  of  your  paper  the  obser- 
vations which  the  representation  at  the  Theatre  on 
Thursday  night  drew  from  me. 

"  I  shall  not  at  present  expatiate  on  the  merits  of  the 
whole  performance  but  confine  myself  principally  to  one 
object.  The  actors  are  indubitably  entitled  to  a  very 
considerable  portion  of  praise.  But,  by  your  leave, 
gentlemen  (to  speak  in  the  language  of  Hamlet)  '  Here's 
metal  more  attractive.'  On  finding  that  the  part  of 
Imogen  was  to  be  played  by  Miss  Hallam  I  instantly 
formed  to  myself,  from  my  predilection  for  her,  the  most 
sanguine  hope  of  entertainment.  But  how  was  I  rav- 

66 


The.  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

ished  on  experiment!  She  exceeded  my  utmost  idea! 
Such  delicacy  of  manner!  Such  classical  strictness  of 
expression !  The  music  of  her  tongue  - —  the  vox  liquida, 
how  melting!  Notwithstanding  the  injuries  it  received 
from  the  horrid  ruggedness  of  the  roof  and  the  untoward 
construction  of  the  whole  house,  methought  I  heard 
once  more  the  warbling  of  Gibber  l  in  my  ear.  How 
true  and  thorough  her  knowledge  of  the  part  she  per- 
sonated! Her  whole  form  and  dimensions  how  happily 
convertible  and  universally  adapted  to  the  variety  of 
her  part. 

"  A  friend  of  mine,  who  was  present,  was  so  deeply 
impressed  by  the  witching  grace  and  justness  with 
which  the  actress  filled  the  whole  character,  that  imme- 
diately on  going  home,  he  threw  out,  warm  from  the 
heart  as  well  as  the  brain,  the  verses  I  enclose. 

"  The  house,  however,  was  thin  from  want  of  ac- 
quaintance with  the  general  as  well  as  the  particular 
merits  of  the  performers.  The  characteristical  propriety 
of  Mrs.  Douglass  cannot  but  be  too  striking  to  pass 
unnoticed.  The  fine  genius  of  that  young  creature, 
Miss  Storer,  unquestionably  affords  the  most  pleasing 
prospect  of  an  accomplished  actress.  The  discerning 
part  of  an  audience  must  cheerfully  pay  the  tribute  of 
applause  due  to  the  solid  sense  which  is  conspicuous  in 
Mrs.  Harman,2  as  well  as  to  her  perspicuity  and  strength 
of  memory.  The  sums  lavished  on  a  late  set  whose 
merits  were  not  of  the  transcendent  kind,  in  whatever 
point  of  light  they  are  viewed,  are  still  fresh  in  our  mem- 
ories. And  should  these  their  successors,  whose  deport- 
ment, decency  and  unremitting  study  to  please  have 
ever  been  confessedly  marked,  meet  with  discounte- 

irThe  allusion  here  is  to  Mrs.  Theophilus  Gibber,  Colley  Gibber's 
daughter-in-law,  a  very  gifted  London  actress. 

2  This  lady  was  Colley  Gibber's  granddaughter,  it  will  be  recalled. 

67 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

nance,  methinks  such  a  conduct  would  not  reflect  the 
highest  honor  either  on  our  taste  or  spirit. 

"  The  merit  of  Mr.  Douglass'  company  is  notoriously, 
in  the  opinion  of  every  man  of  sense  in  America,  whose 
opportunities  give  him  a  title  to  judge  —  take  them  all 
in  all  —  superior  to  that  of  any  company  in  England, 
except  those  of  the  metropolis.  The  dresses  are  re- 
markably elegant;  the  dispatch  of  the  business  of  the 
theatre  uncommonly  quick;  and  the  stillness  and  good 
order  preserved  behind  the  scenes  are  proofs  of  the 
greatest  attention  and  respect  paid  to  the  audience." 

The  poem  of  this  correspondent's  impressionable 
friend  I  will  spare  my  readers;  it  is  twelve  stanzas  long 
and  invokes,  one  by  one,  all  the  goddesses  whose  names 
were  ever  found  in  any  rhapsody  of  its  class.  One 
reference  that  it  contains,  however,  —  to  "  self- tutored 
Peale,"  —  is  of  interest  because  the  suggestion  made  that 
Charles  Wilson  Peale  paint  Miss  Hallam  in  the  part  of 
Imogen  was  in  due  time  improved. 

Peale  had  been  born  in  a  town  near  Annapolis,  and 
had  won  his  way  to  the  dignity  of  a  portrait-painter 
through  the  various  trades  of  saddler,  silversmith,  watch- 
maker, carver,  and  constructor  of  artificial  teeth.  In 
the  winter  of  1770-1771  he  studied  painting  in  Boston 
under  Copley,  and  the  probability  is  that  he  painted  Miss 
Hallam  as  Imogen  during  the  summer  and  autumn  of  the 
latter  year.  A  poem  highly  commending  his  picture 
was  printed  in  the  hospitable  pages  of  the  Maryland 
Gazette  on  November  7,  1771.  Whether  the  poet  was 
over-kind  to  his  efforts  we  cannot  say;  for  absolutely 
no  trace  of  the  portrait  can  be  found  to-day. 

68 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Allusion  is  found  in  "  Y.  Z.'s  "  review  of  Miss  Hallam 
to  the  "  untoward  construction  "  of  the  house  in  which 
this  performance  had  been  given.  The  time  had  now 
come,  in  truth,  for  a  real  theatre  in  Annapolis.  Let  us 
hear  of  the  project  as  a  contemporary  writer,  William 
Eddis,  surveyor  of  customs,  set  it  forth : 

"  Annapolis,  June  18,  1771.  .  .  .  When  I  bade  fare- 
well to  England  I  little  expected  that  my  passion  for 
the  drama  could  have  been  gratified  in  any  tolerable 
degree  at  a  distance  so  remote  from  the  great  mart  of 
genius;  and  I  brought  with  me  strong  prepossessions  in 
behalf  of  favorite  performers  whose  merits  were  fully 
established  by  the  universal  sanction  of  intelligent 
judges.  My  pleasure  and  my  surprise  were  therefore 
excited  in  proportion,  on  finding  performers  in  this 
country  equal  at  least  to  those  who  sustain  the  best  of 
the  first  characters  in  your  most  celebrated  provincial 
theatres.  Our  Governor,  from  a  strong  conviction  that 
the  stage,  under  proper  regulations,  may  be  rendered  of 
general  utility  and  made  subservient  to  the  great  inter- 
ests of  religion  and  virtue,  patronizes  the  American  Com- 
pany; and,  as  their  present  place  of  exhibition  is  on  a 
small  scale  and  inconveniently  situated,  a  subscription 
by  his  example  has  rapidly  been  completed  to  erect  a 
new  theatre  on  a  commodious  if  not  elegant  plan.  The 
manager  is  to  deliver  tickets  for  two  seasons  for  the 
amount  of  the  respective  subscriptions,  and  it  is  imagined 
that  the  money  which  will  be  received  at  the  doors  from 
non-subscribers  will  enable  him  to  conduct  the  business 
without  difficulty,  and  when  the  limited  number  of 
performances  is  completed  the  entire  property  is  to  be 
vested  in  him.  The  building  is  already  in  a  state  of  for- 
wardness and  the  day  of  opening  is  anxiously  expected." 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

This  theatre,  constructed  of  brick,  with  a  seating 
capacity  of  about  six  hundred  persons,  was  erected  in 
West  Street,  Annapolis,  on  ground  leased  from  St. 
Anne's  Parish.  And  so  greatly  did  it  overtop  in  elegance 
the  old  church  of  the  place,  that  there  soon  appeared,  in 
the  columns  of  the  Maryland  Gazette,  a  rhymed  address 
from  the  church  to  the  inhabitants  of  Maryland's 
ancient  capital  complaining  that 

"  Here  in  Annapolis  alone 
God  has  the  meanest  house  in  town," 

and  praying  that  the  institution  devoted  to  "  peace  on 
earth,  good  will  to  men  "  be  housed  at  least  as  well  as 
that  given  over  to  Shakespeare ! 

The  opening  bill  here  (September  9,  1771)  was  the 
"  Roman  Father  "  by  Whitehead,  the  cast  for  which  was 
as  follows: 

Roman  Father Mr.  Hallam 

Tullus  Hostilius Mr.  Douglass 

Publius Mr.  Goodman 

Valerius Mr.  Wall 

First  Citizen Mr.  Morris 

Second  Citizen Mr.  Wools 

Third  Citizen Mr.  Parker 

Fourth  Citizen .  . Mr.  Roberts 

Soldier Mr.  Tomlinson 

Valeria Mrs.  Henry 

Horatio Miss  Hallam 

Williamsburg  in  Virginia,  Charleston  in  South  Caro- 
lina, and  Annapolis  in  Maryland  were  the  only  Southern 

70 


"  PERDITA  "    ROBINSON 

From  the  painting  by  Romney 

See  page  71 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

cities  which,  before  the  Revolution,  welcomed  players. 
After  the  Revolution,  however,  Savannah,  Richmond,  and 
Baltimore  also  figured  early  in  theatrical  history.  Sa- 
vannah's theatre,  or  to  quote  Seilhamer,  "  what  was 
called  a  theatre,"  opened  August  24, 1785,  with  Addison's 
"  Cato  "  and  Garrick's  farce,  "  Catherine  and  Petru- 
chio,"  for  the  bill.  The  two  leading  actors,  Kidd  and 
Godwin,  were  dancing-masters  as  well  as  Thespians. 
But,  instead  of  being  able  to  ride  these  two  horses  suc- 
cessfully, they  found  themselves  unable  to  ride  either  — 
in  Savannah.  Nor  do  we  hear  anything  more  of  theatri- 
cals here  until  1796;  and  even  then  the  company  was  a 
summer  one  and  made  no  very  favourable  impression  on 
the  town. 

The  first  theatre  in  Baltimore  was  built  in  1781  and 
was  situated  in  East  Baltimore  Street,  near  the  Pres- 
byterian church.  The  first  season  here  began  January 
15,  1782,  and  continued  with  considerable  regularity 
until  the  June  15  following.  The  manager  and  leading 
man  was  Mr.  Wall,  an  actor  who  for  many  years  had 
been  a  member  of  the  old  American  company.  With  the 
exception  of  him  and  his  wife,  however,  all  the  names  on 
the  company's  list  were  new  to  American  theatre-goers. 

One  of  these  names  is  Mrs.  Robinson,  whom  Seilhamer, 
with  far  more  trustfulness  than  he  displays  anywhere  else 
in  his  three  huge  volumes,  conjectures  to  be  the  Mrs. 
Robinson  famous  in  Court  scandal  and  in  the  London 
stage  gossip  of  the  day  as  "  Perdita."  If  a  man  who  was 
solemnly  writing  a  history  of  the  theatre  could  suggest 
this  identity,  a  woman,  who  is  gaily  discussing  the 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

theatre's  romance,  may  dwell  slightly  on  it.  That  the 
Mrs.  Robinson  of  the  Baltimore  Theatre  was  an  excep- 
tionally gifted  actress,  just  as  "  Perdita  "  was;  that  the 
years  during  which  she  played  in  a  province  far  from 
London  were  precisely  the  years  when  "  Perdita's " 
whereabouts  were  most  uncertain;  and  that,  at  just 
about  the  time  when  Colonel  Tarleton  (who  surrendered 
with  Cornwallis  at  Yorktown)  returned  to  London  and 
set  up  housekeeping  with  "  Perdita,"  Mrs.  Robinson 
disappeared  from  the  bills  of  the  Baltimore  Theatre, 
all  lend  plausibility,  it  cannot  be  denied,  to  Seilhamer's 
hypothesis.  Further,  the  unusual  duration  (sixteen  years) 
of  "  Perdita's "  relation  with  her  colonel  might  be 
accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  the  two  had  met  in  dis- 
tant America  when  both  were  very  sad  at  heart  as  a 
result  of  the  world's  buffets  and  scorns. 

The  one  fact  which,  to  my  mind,  militates  against  this 
theory  is  that  the  name  on  the  playbills  of  Baltimore  was 
"  Perdita's  "  own.  I  do  not  agree  with  Seilhamer  that 
"  it  never  would  have  occurred  "  to  the  theatre-goers  of 
Baltimore  to  connect  the  Mrs.  Robinson,  whom  they 
admired  at  their  theatre,  with  the  notorious  Mrs.  Robin- 
son who  so  short  a  time  before  had  basked  in  the  favour 
of  Drury  Lane  audiences.  Baltimore  was  not  so  far 
away  from  London  as  that  —  nor  its  playgoers  so  un- 
intelligent. 

One  interesting  event  in  this  season  of  1782  at  Balti- 
more was  the  first  production  in  America  of  Brooke's 
tragedy  "  Gustavus  Vasa,"  which,  though  ready  to  be 
brought  out  at  Drury  Lane  as  early  as  1739,  had  not  yet 

72 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

been  given  there  —  or  anywhere  else  in  London  —  be- 
cause of  the  spirit  of  liberty  which  breathes  through  it. 
The  play,  when  produced  in  this  country,  was  inscribed  to 
Washington  as  the  deliverer  of  his  country,  and  in  the 
epilogue  which  accompanied  its  presentation  at  Balti- 
more, American  independence  was  distinctly  recognized. 
The  last  line  of  this  epilogue  unconsciously  advocated 
"votes  for  women;"  it  pointed  out  that  logically  the 
man 

"  Who  bleeds  for  freedom  will  extend  his  plan; 
Will  keep  the  generous  principle  in  view, 
And  wish  the  ladies  independence,  too." 

The  following  season  this  company  divided  its  time 
between  Baltimore  and  Annapolis,  where  it  went  for 
the  week  of  races  which  at  that  period  attracted  large 
numbers  of  the  Maryland  gentry.  Among  the  names  on 
the  bills  of  the  company  we  now  find  Mr.  and  Mrs.Dennis 
Ryan,  of  whom  we  shall  hear  more  anon.  A  file  of  the 
playbills  of  this  season  is  in  the  possession  of  the  New 
York  Historical  Society,  and  for  some  time  the  receipts  of 
each  night,  both  in  Baltimore  and  in  Annapolis,may  there 
be  found.  As  an  indication  of  the  drawing  power  of 
the  Baltimore  Company  of  Comedians  at  the  two  Mary- 
land cities  in  1782,  these  figures  are  very  interesting. 
The  largest  amount  noted  for  Baltimore  is  £127  10  8  for 
October  18,  when  "  Romeo  and  Juliet "  was  there  pro- 
duced, with  the  "  Wrangling  Lovers  "  as  an  afterpiece. 
The  smallest  amount  taken  in  was  £54  n  3,  on  October 
i,  when  Miller's  tragedy  of  "  Mahomet  the  Impostor  " 

73 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

was  given.  The  best  night  at  Annapolis,  from  the  box- 
office  standpoint,  netted  just  about  the  same  amount  as 
the  best  night  at  Baltimore;  but  the  play  was  not  now 
f  Shakespearian.  The  Annapolis  house  was  smallest  when 
Farquhar's  "  Beaux'  Stratagem,"  with  the  "  Wrangling 
Lovers  "  as  an  afterpiece,  was  given.  This  was  on  No- 
vember 6,  and  the  amount  taken  in  was  £62  2  6.  These 
seem  like  "  paying  "  houses,  but  there  must  have  been 
mismanagement  somewhere,  for  the  theatre  closed 
abruptly  in  midwinter,  and  when  it  opened  again  on 
February  n  with  Dennis  Ryan  in  control,  subscribers 
were  informed  that  old  tickets  would  not  be  received 
for  the  new  series  of  performances.  Evidently  Baltimore 
playgoers  did  not  resent  this,  however,  for  "  to  enable 
Mr.  Ryan  to  accomplish  the  purposes  of  his  under- 
taking," a  number  of  Baltimore  amateurs  came  to  his 
support,  and  a  successful  season  of  four  months  ensued, 
with  the  usual  Annapolis  interlude. 

Possibly  some  of  the  stage-struck  gentlemen  accom- 
panied Mr.  Ryan  when  he  went  to  New  York  in  the 
summer,  there  to  conduct  from  June  19  to  August  16 
(1783)  that  series  of  performances  made  profitable  by 
the  continued  presence  in  the  town  of  a  large  number  of 
British  officers.  Seilhamer  calls  this  "  a  lost  chapter  in 
dramatic  history,"  and  such  it  indeed  seems.  Most  of  the 
pieces  given  had  been  previously  played  by  Ryan's 
company  at  Baltimore,  but  "  Macbeth,"  which  he  now 
put  on,  was  new  to  the  present  band  of  players,  as  was 
"  Oroonoko,"  a  piece  which  languished  from  this  date 
until  the  elder  Booth  revived  it  at  the  Bowery  Theatre  in 

74 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

New  York  in  1832,  himself  assuming  the  title  part.  One 
of  the  "  ladies  "  of  Mr.  Ryan's  company  in  New  York 
was  Mrs.  Fitzgerald,  who,  when  she  returned  to  England 
with  the  troops,  after  the  manner  of  her  kind,  took  with 
her  a  considerable  sum  of  money  which  the  manager  — 
evidently  in  the  hope  of  retaining  her  services  —  had 
advanced  to  her  for  salary.  The  advertisement  in 
which  this  loss  on  Ryan's  part  was  announced  is  full  of 
interest  by  reason  of  the  insight  it  gives  us  into  the  cus- 
toms of  the  times. 

"  Theatre,  New  York,  Oct.  r 
"  Whereas  a  certain  Eleanor  Massey  Fitzgerald  has 
defrauded  the  subscriber  of  the  sum  of  forty-six  pounds, 
sixteen  shillings,  by  entering  into  articles  of  indenture 
and  immediately  absconding —  A  Reward  of  Twenty 
Pounds  will  be  paid  to  any  person  who  can  inform  the 
Subscriber  where  she  is  harbored  so  that  she  may  be 
brought  to  justice,  previous  to  the  3oth  of  this  month. 

"  DENNIS  RYAN."  / 

Both  the  actress  and  the  money  were  gone  for  good, 
however,  and  Ryan  had  to  make  the  best  of  such  talent 
and  capital  as  still  remained  to  him,  when  he  again  turned 
his  face  towards  Baltimore  for  what  was  to  be  his  last 
season  there.  Just  one  occurrence  of  this  season  is  of 
sufficient  interest  to  claim  our  attention,  the  first  pro- 
duction in  America,  on  February  3,  1784,  of  "  The  School 
for  Scandal."  This  masterpiece  of  English  comedy  was 
first  produced  at  Drury  Lane,  May  8,  1777;  but  it  was 
not  then  published,  and  even  Seilhamer,  who  knows  so 
much,  cannot  tell  us  how  Ryan  secured  a  copy.  By  the 

75 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

time  the  old  American  company  gave  the  play  in  New 
York,  December  12,  1785,  there  was  no  difficulty  about 
play-books,  however,  for  "  Hallam's  partner,  Henry, 
was  in  possession  of  an  authentic  copy  given  him  by  the 
author,  through  his  personal  relations  with  the  Sheridan 
family."  l  This  edition  was  printed  by  Hugh  Gaine  in 
1786,  and  so  was  available  for  use  when  the  old 
American  company  opened  in  Baltimore  with  the 
comedy  on  August  17  of  that  year,  and  inaugurated 
their  season  at  Richmond,  on  October  10,  with  the 
same  piece. 

The  most  interesting  effort  of  the  period  towards  the 
revival  of  the  drama  in  the  South  was  that  made  in 
Charleston  this  same  winter  by  the  Mr.  Godwin  whom 
we  noted  at  Savannah  as  a  dancing-master  with  mana- 
gerial aspirations.  Godwin's  season  lasted  from  Sep- 
tember until  the  close  of  March,  but  inasmuch  as  he 
made,  at  its  start,  the  fatal  mistake  of  exhibiting  his 
playhouse  gratis,  he  failed  to  realize  largely  from  the  box- 
office.  Douglass  had  built  a  theatre  in  Charleston  be- 
fore the  Revolution,  it  will  be  recalled;  consequently 
we  must  rank  as  the  second  theatre  in  Charleston  the 
place  thus  paragraphed  in  the  New  York  Independent 
Journal  of  August  5,  1786: 

"  HARMONY  HALL.  —  We  hear  from  Charleston,  S.  C., 
that  a  principal  merchant  of  that  city  and  a  Mr.  God- 
win, comedian,  has  leased  a  lot  of  land  for  five  years 
and  have  erected  a  building  called  Harmony  Hall,  for 
the  purpose  of  music  meetings,  dancing  and  theatrical 

1  "  History  of  the  American  Theatre,"  vol.  II,  page  185. 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

amusements.  It  is  situated  in  a  spacious  garden  in  the 
suburbs  of  the  city.  The  boxes  are  22  in  number  with  a 
key  to  each  box.  The  pit  is  very  large  and  the  theatrum 
and  orchestra  elegant  and  commodious.  It  was  opened 
with  a  grand  concert  of  music  gratis  for  the  satisfaction 
of  the  principal  inhabitants  who  wished  to  see  it  pre- 
vious to  the  first  night's  exhibition.  The  above  building 
cost  £500  sterling.  Salaries  from  two  to  five  guineas  per 
week,  and  a  benefit  every  nine  months  is  offered  to  good 
performers." 

The  subsequent  history  of  Harmony  Hall  is  not  with- 
out interest.  In  the  summer  of  1794  it  was  occupied  by 
the  Placide  Troupe  and  called  the  French  theatre.  A 
rendering  of  the  Marseillaise,  in  which  the  audience  joined, 
was  now  a  feature  of  this  house.  Charleston  had  a  large 
French  population  at  this  time,  by  reason  of  the  fact 
that  it  had  offered  an  asylum  to  the  St.  Domingo  refugees 
driven  out  of  their  island  by  the  horrible  massacres  of 
1792.  The  mother  of  Joseph  Jefferson,  it  is  interesting 
to  note,  was  one  of  these  refugees.  Towards  the  close 
of  1794,  the  name  City  Theatre  was  given  to  Harmony 
Hall,  and  a  company,  of  which  Mr.  Solee  appears  to  have 
been  the  manager,  took  possession.  Here,  on  February 
14,  1795,  "  Louis  XVI"  was  given  its  first  American 
production. 

Another  Charleston  production  of  distinct  interest  was 
"  The  Apotheosis  of  Franklin,"  given  on  April  22,  1796. 
The  advertisements  declare  that  "  nothing  like  this 
spectacle  was  ever  before  performed  on  this  continent," 
and  for  once  an  advertisement  spoke  truly.  Because  it 
indicates  how  short  a  distance  America  had  progressed 

77 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

by  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  towards  imposing 
scenic  production,  let  us  examine  the  "  Apotheosis." 

The  first  scene  represented  the  sculptor,  Houdon,  at 
work  on  the  tomb  of  Franklin.  Although  only  a  modest 
slab  covers  the  grave  of  Benjamin  and  Deborah  Franklin 
at  Fifth  and  Arch  Streets  in  Philadelphia,  there  were 
here  two  ambitious  statues.  One  represented  the  United 
States  holding  the  American  eagle  in  the  right  hand  and 
an  appropriately  inscribed  shield  and  buckler  in  the 
left;  the  other  depicted  Prudence  —  that  virtue  being 
the  Franklin  attribute  most  in  the  public  eye  a  century 
ago. 

The  second  act  was  in  three  scenes.  The  first  scene 
represented  a  gloomy  cavern,  through  which  were  seen 
the  river  Styx  and  the  banks  of  the  Stygian  lake.  Charon 
here  appears  in  his  boat  ready  to  convey  Franklin  to  the 
Elysian  Fields.  But  Elysium  once  reached,  Franklin 
himself  becomes  an  actor.  For  he  must  be  led  aloft  by 
the  Goddess  of  Fame,  who  will  proclaim  his  virtues,  and 
he  must  be  conducted  to  the  abodes  of  Peace  by  Phi- 
losophy, there  to  be  introduced  by  Diogenes  to  all  the 
learned  and  wise  who  inhabit  this  region.  The  last  scene 
represented  the  Temple  of  Memory  and  was  adorned  with 
statues  and  busts  of  all  the  deceased  philosophers  and 
poets  who  had  preceded  Franklin  to  the  Land  of  Shades. 
As  the  curtain  fell,  the  statue  of  Philadelphia's  Sage  was 
placed  on  a  vacant  pedestal  facing  that  of  Sir  Isaac 
Newton. 

Yet  to  this  performance,  in  honour  of  him  who  had 
struggled  so  hard  for  American  liberty,  no  "  person  of 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

colour  "  was  admitted!  All  Mr.  Solee's  advertisements 
contained  an  announcement  of  this  discrimination,  to 
which  it  was  added  that  this  ruling  was  "  by  regulation 
of  the  Common  Council." 


79 


CHAPTER  III 

RISE    OF    THE    THEATRE    AS    AN    AMERICAN    INSTITUTION 

LOVERS  of  liberty  no  less  than  lovers  of  the  theatre 
should  give  devout  thanks  that  the  British  officers  who 
served  in  America  during  our  Revolution  were  exceed- 
ingly fond  of  "  stage  performances."  For  America  owes 
much  to  the  military  Thespians  in  New  York,  Phila- 
delphia, and  Boston.  On  the  one  hand  their  absorption 
"  in  play-acting  "  increased  the  non-preparedness  which 
made  it  possible  for  the  Yankees  to  win;  and  on  the 
other  hand,  by  giving  good  plays  in  a  creditable  manner, 
these  officers  notably  advanced  the  progress  of  the  stage 
as  an  American  institution. 

Boston  was  the  only  city  of  any  importance  which, 
down  to  the  outbreak  of  the  Revolution,  had  persistently 
refused  hospitality  to  plays  and  players.  It  is  but  little 
more  than  a  legend  that  a  dramatic  performance  was 
given  in  a  coffee-house  in  State  Street  in  Boston,  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  year  1750.  The  historians  of  the  period 
fail  to  give  most  of  the  essential  details  of  the  affair, 
the  names  of  those  who  promoted  or  took  part  in  it,  and 
other  material  incidents.  The  simple  facts  recorded  are 
that  it  was  Thomas  Otway's  old  tragedy  of  the  "  Orphan  " 
that  was  acted  or  attempted,  the  performers,  with  two 

80 


JOHN    GILBERT   AS    SIR   PETER    TEAZLE 
See  page  211 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

exceptions,  being  local  amateurs.  The  exceptions  noted 
were  English  professionals,  very  likely  from  William 
Hallam's  company,  but  recently  arrived  from  England. 
The  desire  to  witness  this  performance  appears  to  have 
been  extraordinary.  That  there  was  an  unruly  and  al- 
most riotous  mob  at  the  doors,  and  that  a  serious  dis- 
turbance occurred,  is  recorded.  This  latter  disturbance 
aroused  the  authorities,  and  the  matter  was  brought  to 
the  attention  of  the  General  Court,  with  a  petition  to 
prohibit  further  trouble  from  a  similar  cause.  That 
august  body  immediately  enacted  as  follows: 

"  For  preventing  and  avoiding  the  many  and  great 
mischiefs  which  arise  from  public  stage  plays,  interludes 
and  other  theatrical  entertainments,  which  not  only 
occasion  great  and  unnecessary  expense,  and  discourage 
industry  and  frugality,  but  likewise  tend  generally  to 
increase  immorality,  impiety  and  contempt  of  religion  — 

"  Be  it  enacted  by  the  Lieut.  Governor,  Council  and 
House  of  Representatives  that  from  and  after  the  publi- 
cation of  this  act,  no  person  or  persons  whosoever  shall 
or  may  for  hire  or  gain,  or  for  any  valuable  considera- 
tion, let  or  suffer  to  be  used  and  improved  any  house, 
room  or  place  whatsoever  for  acting  or  carrying  on  any 
stage  plays,  interludes  or  other  theatrical  entertain- 
ments, on  pain  of  forfeiting  and  paying  for  each  and 
every  day  or  time  such  house,  room  or  place  shall  be 
let,  used  or  improved,  contrary  to  this  act,  twenty 
pounds. 

"  Sect.  II  —  And  be  it  further  enacted  that  if  at  any 
time  or  times  whatsoever  from  and  after  the  publication 
of  this  act,  any  person  or  persons  shall  be  present  as  an 
actor  or  spectator  of  any  stage  play,  interlude  or  theatri- 

81 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

cal  entertainment  in  any  house,  room  or  place  where  a 
greater  number  of  persons  than  twenty  shall  be  as- 
sembled together,  every  such  person  shall  forfeit  and 
pay  for  every  time  he  or  they  shall  be  present  as  afore- 
said, five  pounds.  The  forfeiting  and  penalties  afore- 
said to  be  one-half  to  His  Majesty  for  the  use  of  the 
government,  and  the  other  half  to  him  or  them  that 
shall  inform  or  sue  for  the  same,  and  the  aforesaid  for- 
feitures and  penalties  may  likewise  be  recovered  by 
presentment  of  the  grand  jury,  in  which  case  the  whole 
of  the  forfeitures  shall  go  to  His  Majesty  for  the  use  of 
the  government." 

This  law  of  the  Commonwealth,  with  the  public 
sentiment  largely  in  its  favour,  of  course  rendered  stage 
plays  prohibitive.  There  is  little  doubt  that  it  was  the 
presence  of  this  law  on  the  statute  books  which  gave  the 
final  fillip  to  the  theatricals  instituted  in  Boston  by 
General  Burgoyne's  officers  late  in  1775. 

Faneuil  Hall  was  the  theatre  used  for  these  exhibitions, 
and  announcements  of  the  plays  to  be  performed  were 
made  by  hand-bills.  Mrs.  Centlivre's  comedy,  "  The 
Busybody,"  Rowe's  "Tamerlane,"  and  Aaron  Hill's 
tragedy  of  "  Zara  "  were  among  the  attractions  offered, 
the  drawing  power  of  the  latter  being  considerably  in- 
creased by  the  fact  that  Burgoyne  himself  wrote  a  pro- 
logue for  it.  An  interesting  contemporary  allusion  to 
this  entertainment  is  found  in  a  letter  sent  by  Burgoyne's 
brother-in-law,  Thomas  Stanley,  the  second  son  of  Lord 
Derby,  to  Hugh  Elliott:  "We  acted  the  tragedy  of 
'  Zara  '  two  nights  before  I  left  Boston,"  he  wrote,  "  for 
the  benefit  of  the  widows  and  children.  The  Prologue 

82 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

was  spoken  by  Lord  Rawdon,  a  very  fine  fellow  and  a 
good  soldier,  I  wish  you  knew  him.  We  took  above 
£100  at  the  door.  I  hear  a  great  many  people  blame  us 
for  acting,  and  think  we  might  have  found  something 
better  to  do,  but  General  Howe  follows  the  example  of 
the  King  of  Prussia,  who,  when  Prince  Ferdinand  wrote 
him  a  long  letter,  mentioning  all  the  difficulties  and  dis- 
tresses of  the  army,  sent  back  the  following  concise  an- 
swer: De  la  gaiete,  encore  de  la  gaiete,  et  toujours  de  la 
gaiete.  The  female  parts  were  filled  by  young  ladies, 
though  some  of  the  Boston  ladies  were  so  prudish  as  to 
say  this  was  improper." 

The  performances  at  Faneuil  Hall  playhouse  began  at 
six  o'clock,  and  the  entrance  fee  was  one  dollar  for  the 
pit  and  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  for  the  gallery.  For  some 
reason,  either  because  the  play  was  immensely  popular, 
or  because  the  currency  gave  trouble,  those  in  charge 
were  obliged  to  announce  after  a  few  evenings:  "The 
managers  will  have  the  house  strictly  surveyed  and  give 
out  tickets  for  the  number  it  will  contain.  The  most 
positive  orders  are  given  not  to  take  money  at  the  door, 
and  it  is  hoped  gentlemen  of  the  army  will  not  use  their 
influence  over  the  sergeants  who  are  door-keepers  to 
induce  them  to  disobey  that  order,  as  it  is  meant  entirely 
to  promote  the  ease  and  convenience  of  the  public  by 
not  crowding  the  theatre." 

The  most  notable  piece  presented  at  Faneuil  Hall  was 
the  local  farce,  "  The  Blockade  of  Boston,"  the  author- 
ship of  which  is  generally  credited  to  Burgoyne.  Whether 
the  General  wrote  this  piece  or  not,  he  was  the  ruling 

83 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

spirit  in  its  presentation.  He  was  himself  an  amateur 
actor  of  no  mean  ability  and  had  already  written  his 
first  play,  "  The  Maid  of  the  Oaks,"  before  coming  to 
America.  This  play  was  originally  acted,  in  1774,  at 
the  Burgoyne  home,  The  Oaks,  on  the  occasion  of  a 
marriage  fete  in  honour  of  Burgoyne's  brother-in-law, 
Lord  Stanley.  Garrick  was  so  taken  with  the  piece, 
when  he  read  it,  that  he  brought  it  out  at  Drury  Lane  in 
1775,  with  Mrs.  Abington  in  the  chief  role.  So,  if  Bur- 
goyne did  not  write  "  The  Blockade  of  Boston,"  it  was 
not  because  he  lacked  ability  to  write  a  good  play. 

Whether  this  was  a  good  play,  we  have  no  means  of 
knowing.  It  has  come  down  to  us  in  history,  not  by 
reason  of  its  dramatic  excellence,  but  because  of  certain 
"  business  "  not  originally  planned.  It  was  booked  to  be 
given  for  the  first  time  on  any  stage  at  Faneuil  Hall  on  the 
evening  of  January  8,  1776.  The  comedy  of  "  The  Busy- 
body "  had  already  been  acted,  and  the  orchestra  was 
playing  an  introduction  for  the  farce,  when  the  actors 
behind  the  scenes  heard  an  exaggerated  report  of  a  raid 
made  upon  Charlestown  by  a  small  party  of  Americans. 
Washington,  represented  by  an  uncouth  figure,  awkward 
in  gait,  wearing  a  large  wig  and  rusty  sword,  had  no 
sooner  come  on  to  speak  his  opening  lines  in  the  play, 
than  a  British  sergeant  suddenly  appeared  on  the  stage 
and  exclaimed:  "  The  Yankees  are  attacking  our  works 
on  Bunker's  Hill."  At  first  this  was  thought  part  of  the 
farce;  but  when  Howe,  who  was  present,  called  out 
sharply,  "  Officers,  to  your  alarm  posts!  "  the  audience 
quickly  dispersed. 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Timothy  Newell,  in  his  diary,  says  there  was  "  much 
fainting,  fright  and  confusion."  And  well  there  might 
have  been,  with  the  officers  jumping  over  the  orchestra  at 
great  expense  to  the  fiddles,  the  actors  rushing  wildly 
about  in  their  eagerness  to  get  rid  of  their  make-up  and 
costume,  and  the  ladies  alternately  fainting  and  scream- 
ing. They  had  to  revive  themselves,  however,  and  get 
home  as  best  they  could,  those  poor  ladies!  For  some 
time  it  was  the  chief  delight  of  the  patriot  dames  to 
relate  how  maids  and  matrons  of  the  Faneuil  Hall  au- 
dience were  obliged  to  pick  their  way  home  through  the 
dark  Boston  streets  unattended  by  any  of  their  usual 
escorts. 

The  Tory  sheet  published  by  Madam  Draper  all 
through  the  siege  of  Boston,  after  reporting  the  inter- 
ruption of  the  "Blockade's"  first  performance,  adds: 
"  As  soon  as  those  parts  which  are  vacant  by  some  gentle- 
men being  ordered  to  Charlestown  can  be  filled,  that 
farce  will  be  performed,  with  the  tragedy  of  '  Tamer- 
lane/ '  The  diary  of  John  Rowe  records  that  the  play 
actually  came  off  on  January  22,  1776. 

It  has  been  said  that  desire  to  offend  the  prejudices 
Ql.P..uritan^  New  England  was  a  strong  motive  in  the 
acting  of  the  Boston  Thespians.  That  hand-bills  of  the 
entertainments  were  sent  regularly  to  Washington,  Han- 
cock, and  other  leading  spirits  among  the  Provincials 
bears  this  out.  In  the  performances  which  soon  followed 
at  New  York,  however,  the_diversion  of  the  soldiery  was 
the  mamj^jfg*  The  moving"s^)mts  in  the  firsFT^ew 
York  season  of  the  military  Thespians  were  some  of 

85 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  same  officers  who  had  taken  part  in  the  performances 
at  Boston,  including  the  young  Captain  Stanley  whose 
letter  has  been  quoted.  He  it  was  who  wrote  the  Pro- 
logue for  the  re-opening  of  the  John  Street  Theatre  on 
January  25,  1777. 

The  bill  on  this  first  night  of  a  series  of  seasons 
which  lasted  until  1783  was  Fielding's  burlesque,  "  Tom 
Thumb,"  a  piece  very  well  adapted  to  the  initial  effort  of 
a  company  of  amateurs,  a  company,  which,  at  this  time, 
was  probably  quite  without  actresses.  The  players  were 
so  fortunate  as  to  have  a  zealous  friend  in  the  person  of 
Hugh  Gaine,  who  printed  the  Mercury  at  the  sign  of 
the  Bible  and  the  Crown  in  Hanover  Square;  and  on  this 
account  we  have  a  contemporary  criticism  of  their 
New  York  debut: 

"  On  Saturday  evening  last  the  little  Theatre  in  John 
street  in  this  city  was  opened  with  the  celebrated  bur- 
lesque entertainment,  '  Tom  Thumb/  written  by  the 
late  Mr.  Fielding  to  ridicule  the  pathos  of  several  dra- 
matic pieces  that  at  his  time,  to  the  disgrace  of  the 
British  stage,  had  engrossed  both  the  London  Theatres. 
The  characters  were  performed  by  gentlemen  of  the 
Army  and  Navy;  the  spirit  with  which  this  favorite 
was  supported  prove  their  taste  and  strong  conception 
of  humor.  Saturday's  performance  convinces  us 
that  a  good  education  and  knowledge  of  polite  life  are 
essentially  necessary  to  form  a  good  actor.  The  Play 
was  introduced  by  a  Prologue  written  by  Captain  Stan- 
ley; we  have  great  pleasure  in  applauding  this  first 
effort  of  his  infant  muse  as  replete  with  true  genius. 
The  scenes  painted  by  Captain  De  Lancey  had  great 
merit  and  would  not  disgrace  a  theatre  tho'  under  the 

86 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

management  of  a  Garrick.  The  House  was  crowded 
with  company  and  the  Ladies  made  a  brilliant  appear- 
ance." 


There  is  very  little  said  here  about  the  acting,  it 
will  be  observed.  Very  likely  the  notice  was  written  in 
anticipation  of  the  event  —  inasmuch  as  it  appeared  on 
Monday,  and  the  performance  was  on  a  Saturday  evening. 
This  was  a  very  long  time,  it  must  be  remembered,  be- 
fore the  days  when  newspaper  enterprise  puts  into  the 
hands  of  "  fans,"  as  they  scramble  for  their  cars  after  a 
ball  game,  a  categorical  description  of  all  the  plays  made 
on  the  diamond  that  very  afternoon  by  the  favourites  for 
whom  they  have  just  been  shouting  themselves  hoarse. 

That  the  difficulties  under  which  these  military 
Thespians  acted  were  many  and  varied  goes  without 
saying.  For  one  thing,  they  had  almost  no  play-books. 
In  the  Royal  Gazette  of  December  22,  1779,  appears  the 
following  notice:  "  The  managers  of  the  theatre,  under-  * 
standing  that  a  gentleman  purchased  a  set  of  Mr.  Gar- 
rick's  works  from  Robertson,  printer,  will  be  much 
obliged  to  that  gentleman  if  he  will  resign  the  purchase 
over  to  the  theatre  for  the  benefit  of  charity,  or  lend  them 
the  particular  volume  that  contains  the  comedy  of 
'  Catherine  and  Petruchio.' '  As  this  farce  was  soon 
afterwards  produced,  it  would  appear  that  the  fortunate 
possessor  of  Garrick's  works  obligingly  complied  with 
this  odd  request. 

The  "  charity  "  here  referred  to  was  something  of  a 
blind.    At  first,  to  be  sure,  the  widows  and  orphans  were 

87 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

actually  paid  a  good  deal  of  the  money  taken  in  at  the 
door.  But,  later,  there  was  a  regular  salary  list  for  the 
actors  and  actresses.  Dunlap  says  that  fourteen  per- 
formers got  a  dollar  a  day,  even  this  modest  sum  being 
welcome  to  the  officers  by  reason  of  the  high  price  of 
necessaries  in  New  York.  "  Circumstanced  as  these 
brave  men  are,"  declared  one  of  the  English  journals, 
"  such  an  exertion  of  their  talents  to  increase  their  in- 
comes deserves  the  greatest  encouragement."  Thus 
charity  became  a  business,  and  the  actors  soon  learned, 
as  every  amateur  who  "  goes  on  "  professionally  learns, 
that  there  is  a  vast  difference  between  what  your  friends 
say  of  your  theatrical  ability  and  what  the  professional 
critic  says.  A  certain  Lieutenant  Spencer  who  acted  in 
New  York  at  this  time  and  afterwards  played  "  Richard 
III  "  at  Bath,  elicited  this  comment:  "  The  debutant  of 
last  night  has  long  been  known  as  an  excellent  player  - 
at  billiards." 

Major  Andre  of  pathetic  memory  was  one  of  the  New 
York  Thespians  for  a  time,  though  he  is  more  intimately 
associated  with  the  performances  given  at  Philadelphia 
during  the  winter  of  1777-1778.  In  the  Southwark 
Theatre,  which  Hallam  had  formerly  occupied,  Howe's 
Thespians  began  to  offer  plays  very  soon  after  their 
occupation  of  the  Quaker  City.  In  the  diary  of  Robert 
Morton,  then  in  his  seventeenth  year,  may  be  found  an 
allusion  to  the  use  of  this  building  as  a  hospital,  when 
the  wounded  soldiers  were  brought  in,  after  the  battle 
of  Germantown.  But,  as  the  winter  wore  on,  and  this 
emergency  use  of  the  playhouse  ceased,  preparations 

88 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

were  begun  to  inaugurate  a  series  of  dramas.  In  the 
Pennsylvania  Ledger  of  December  24,  1777,  appeared  an 
advertisement  for  a  person  at  the  playhouse  who  could 
write  a  legible  hand,  and  at  the  same  time  notice  was 
given  that  those  who  had  formerly  been  employed  at  the 
theatre  might  again  obtain  work  there. 

Andre  was  the  moving  spirit  of  all  that  subsequently 
went  on  here.  For,  though  he  was  no  carpet  knight,  he 
had  rare  facility  in  the  arts  —  and  he  was  young,  gay, 
and  charming.  In  an  earlier  book  of  mine *  I  have  de- 
scribed at  considerable  length  his  relations  at  this  time 
with  pretty  Peggy  Shippen,  who  became  the  wife  of 
the  traitor,  Benedict  Arnold.  So,  alluring  as  that  sub- 
ject is,  I  will  here  proceed  at  once  from  Andre  the  man 
to  Andre  the  artist.  His  talent  in  this  way  was  by 
no  means  inconsiderable.  Charles  Durang,  who  wrote 
the  "  History  of  the  Philadelphia  Stage,"  remembered 
well  one  set  of  scenes  that  Andre  painted  at  this  time. 

"  It  was  a  landscape,"  he  records,  "  presenting  a 
distant  champagne  country  and  a  winding  rivulet,  ex- 
tending from  the  front  of  the  picture  to  the  extreme 
distance.  In  the  foreground  and  centre  was  a  gentle 
cascade  —  the  water  exquisitely  executed  —  overshad- 
owed by  a  group  of  majestic  forest  trees.  The  perspec- 
tive was  excellently  preserved;  the  foliage,  verdure  and 
general  colouring  artistically  toned  and  glazed.  It  was 
a  drop  scene  and  Andre's  name  was  inscribed  on  the 
back  of  it  in  large  black  letters.  It  was  preserved  in 

1  "  Romantic  Days  in  the  Early  Republic,"  Little,  Brown,  &  Co., 
Boston. 

89 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  theatre  until  1821,  when  it  perished  with  the  rest 
of  the  scenery  in  that  old  temple  of  the  drama." 

So  successful  were  the  plays  projected  and  staged  by 
Andre  at  the  Southwark,  that  after  the  return  of  the 
Continental  Congress  to  Philadelphia  an  attempt  was 
made  by  some  regular  players  to  open  a  season  there. 
But  their  efforts  were  promptly  frowned  down.  "  Fre- 
quenting playhouses  and  theatrical  entertainments  has 
a  fatal  tendency,"  the  gentlemen  in  Congress  asserted, 
"  to  divert  the  minds  of  the  people  from  a  due  attention 
to  the  means  necessary  for  the  defense  of  the  country 
and  the  preservation  of  their  liberties."  It  was  there- 
fore resolved:  "  That  any  person  holding  an  office  under 
the  United  States  who  shall  act,  promote,  attend,  or 
encourage  such  plays,  shall  be  deemed  unworthy  to  hold 
such  office  and  shall  be  accordingly  dismissed."  There  is 
a  story  that  on  the  very  day  this  resolution  was  enacted, 
Lafayette  asked  Henry  Laurens,  who  was  then  President 
of  Congress,  to  go  with  him  to  the  play.  When  Laurens 
told  him  what  Congress  had  done,  Lafayette  said  simply: 
"  Then  I  shall  not  go  to  the  play." 

The  States  generally,  however,  failed  to  adopt  the 
recommendations  which  Congress  would  have  crammed 
down  their  throats,  interdicting  every  form  of  amusement, 
and  for  nearly  two  years  before  the  final  departure  of  the 
British,  plays  were  being  regularly  given  at  Baltimore, 
Annapolis,  and  New  York.  Of  Ryan's  season  in  New 
York  during  the  winter  of  1782-1783,  we  heard  in  the 
course  of  the  Southern  chapter. 

The  next  New  York  combination  worthy  of  extended 

90 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

notice  was  the  Hallam  and  Henry  company,  which  from 
1785  to  1792  flourished  at  John  Street.  It  was  in  1787, 
under  the  auspices  of  this  management,  that  there  here 
occurred  the  most  notable  performance  America  had  yet 
seen,  the  initial  production  of  Royall  Tyler's  admirable 
comedy,  "  The  Contrast."  This  piece  has  little  or  no 
plot  and  scarcely  any  action,  either.  Nevertheless,  the 
work  is  interesting  to  read  —  even  after  all  this  lapse 
of  time  —  and  must  have  been  very  interesting  to  see 
when  produced  at  the  old  John  Street  Theatre,  with 
Wignell l  playing  the  role  which  has  served,  ever  since, 
as  the  model  of  stage  Jonathans. 

Royall  Tyler,  the  author  of  this  piece,  was  born  at 
Boston,  Massachusetts,  July  18,  1758,  and  belonged  to 
a  wealthy  and  influential  New  England  family.  He 
received  his  early  education  at  the  Boston  Latin  School 
and  was  duly  graduated  from  Harvard.  During  the 
Revolutionary  War,  and  afterwards  in  Shays's  Rebellion, 
he  acted  as  aide-de-camp  with  the  rank  of  major  on  the 
staff  of  General  Benjamin  Lincoln.  It  was  in  connection 
with  this  latter  office  that  he  was  sent  to  New  York  by 
Governor  Bowdoin;  Shays  had  crossed  the  border  line 


1  Thomas  Wignell  was  the  son  of  a  member  of  Garrick's  company 
and  first  came  to  America  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Revolutionary  War. 
He  was  connected  with  the  John  Street  Theatre  from  1785  to  1791.  In 
1794  he  opened  the  Chestnut  Street  Theatre,  Philadelphia,  then  the 
finest  building  of  its  kind  in  America.  Mrs.  Merry,  whom  he  married 
only  a  few  weeks  before  his  death,  in  1803,  had,  as  Miss  Brunton,  been 
well  known  and  much  liked  on  the  stage  in  England.  In  1792  she  mar- 
ried Robert  Merry,  a  poet,  and  his  means  failing,  they  came"  together 
to  America.  Her  first  appearance  here  was  in  Philadelphia,  in  1796,  as 
Juliet.  Merry  died  in  1798.  After  WignelPs  death  she  married  Warren, 
father  of  Boston's  William  Warren,  who  outlived  her. 

91 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

from  Massachusetts  into  New  York  State,  and  his  cap- 
ture was  ardently  desired. 

So  Tyler,  who  had  never  before  been  outside  New 
England,  found  himseff  in  New  York.  At  once  his 
attention  turned  to  the  theatre,  which  was  altogether 
new  to  him,  and  soon  its  fascinations  were  proving  so 
potent  that  he  became  a  constant  visitor  both  behind 
and  before  the  scenes.  The  performers  speedily  grew 
to  be  his  friends  —  especially  Wignefl  —  who  early  had 
an  opportunity  to  examine  the  manuscript  of  "  The  Con- 
trast." 

The  theme  of  the  play  is  the  contrast  between  the 
meretricious  standards  of  the  fashionable  world  and 
the  simple  straightforward  ideals  of  your  true  and  self- 
respecting  American.  Hence,  of  course,  its  title.  When 
the  curtain  rises,  two  debutantes  of  the  period  are  dis- 
cussing the  latest  style  in  skirts  —  mingling  therewith 
a  good  deal  of  gossip  —  in  quite  the  manner  that  a  group 
of  frivolous  women  assembling  for  a  matinee  "  bridge  " 
might  talk  of  these  same  topics  to-day.  In  the 
second  scene  there  are  some  interesting  Ibsenesque 
reflections  about  the  relations  between  men  and  women, 
which  almost  persuade  us  that  Maria,  though  she 
has  perhaps  been  reading  over-much  about  Sir  Charles 
Grandison,  is  really  a  type  of  the  awakening  woman- 
soul. 

Of  course,  the  entire  work  is  over-sentimental.  But 
it  is  very  much  less  offensive  in  this  way  than  many 
another  literary  product  of  its  time.  And  if  Colonel 
Manly  is  a  prig,  his  sister,  Charlotte,  is  a  very  clever 

92 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

young  person.  Witness  her  characterization  of  the 
colonel  as  one  whose  "  conversation  is  like  a  rich,  old- 
fashioned  brocade  —  it  will  stand  alone ;  every  sentence 
is  a  sentiment."  That  there  is  a  great  deal  of  wit  and 
humour  in  the  piece  we  have  seen  from  Jonathan's 
description  of  the  playhouse  quoted  in  our  first  chapter. 
The  comedy  is  of  its  time,  too,  and  could  have  been 
written  by  none  other  than  an  American.  Jonathan, 
snubbed  for  philandering  with  Jenny,  who  has  just  gone 
off  "  in  a  swinging  passion,"  declares  thoughtfully 
that  if  that  is  the  way  city  ladies  act,  he  will  continue 
to  prefer  his  Tabitha  with  her  twenty  acres  of  rock,  her 
Bible,  a  cow,  and  "a  little  peaceable  bundling."  The 
one  other  bit  of  comic  action  in  the  comedy  —  aside 
from  this  attempt  of  Jonathan's  to  kiss  Jenny  —  is  in 
the  last  scene  of  the  play's  last  act,  where  Colonel 
Manly,  upon  whom  Maria  has  decided  to  bestow  her 
overflowing  heart,  crosses  swords  with  Dimple,  the  man 
to  whom  this  fair  one's  troth  had  been  plighted  before 
he  had  taken  a  trip  abroad  to  acquire  the  vices  then 
fashionable  in  England.  The  original  cast  of  this  piece 
seems  of  sufficient  interest  to  be  here  reprinted: 

Colonel  Manly Mr.  Henry 

Dimple Mr.  Hallam 

Van  Rough Mr.  Morris 

Jessamy Mr.  Harper 

Jonathan Mr.  Wignell 

Charlotte Mrs.  Morris 

Maria Mrs.  Harper 

Letitia Mrs.  Kenna 

Jenny Miss  Tuke 

93 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

After  its  New  York  season,  "  The  Contrast "  was  suc- 
cessfully given  in  Philadelphia,  in  Baltimore  —  and  in 
Boston  for  the  benefit  of  the  fire  sufferers.  Nor  was  it 
quickly  forgotten.  When  Dunlap  returned  to  New  York, 
after  his  three  years'  sojourn  in  London,  it  was  still 
the  talk  of  the  town,  and  he  was  glad  to  make  the  drawing 
of  the  duel  scene  which  is  herewith  reproduced.1 

The  success  of  "  The  Contrast  "  is  of  vast  importance 
to  us  in  thatTit  was  perhaps  the  most  powerful  single 
influence  in  bringing  about  a  complete  revolution  of 
sentiment  with  respect  to  the  drama.  Where  the  most 
reputable" "ancTTaw-abiding  of  the  people  had  hitherto 
kept  away  from  all  theatrical  amusements,  they  now 
experienced  a  decided  change  of  heart  towards  plays  and 
playhouses.  Dramas  by  American  authors  followed  each 
other  in  rapid  succession.  And  soon  even  Washington 
found  himself  often  at  the  theatre.  In  1784  he  had  at- 
tended a  performance  of "  Gustavus  Vasa  "  played  by  the 
students  of  Washington  College,  Maryland,  in  his  hon- 
our. But  the  first  references  that  I  have  been  able  to 
find  of  his  attendance  at  professional  performances  are 
contained  in  the  diary  he  kept  during  the  sessions  of  the 
Federal  Convention.  During  the  season  when  the  in- 
genious Hallam  was  offering  at  the  Southwark  Theatre, 
Philadelphia,  not  a  play,  but  a  "  Spectaculum  Vitae," 
Washington  was  in  the  audience  on  July  10,  July  14,  and 
July  21. 

On  the  evening  after  Washington's  inauguration  at 

1  From  the  engraving  given  as  frontispiece  to  the  reprint  of  the 
comedy,  put  out  by  the  Dunlap  Society  of  New  York  in  1887. 

94 


SCENE    FROM    "  THE    CONTRAST  " 
From  a  drawing  by  Dunlap 


INTERIOR  OF  THE  FIRST  PARK  THEATRE,  NEW  YORK,  BUILT  IN  1798 

See  page  107,  note 


THE    CHESTNUT   STREET   THEATRE,    PHILADELPHIA,    ABOUT    l8oO 
See  page  102 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

New  York,  the  little  house  in  John  Street  was  alight 
with  transparencies,  one  of  which  represented  Fame  as  an 
angel  descending  from  heaven  to  crown  Washington  with 
the  emblems  of  immortality.  And  in  this  same  house 
the  President  was  soon  being  celebrated  in  "  Darby's 
Return."  Washington  himself  was  in  the  audience  on 
the  night  of  the  first  production  of  this  work,  in  which 
occur  many  passages  that  make  a  direct  reference  to 
the  President. 

The  piece  is  from  the  pen  of  Dunlap.  Darby,  a  poor 
soldier,  returns  to  Ireland  and  recounts  the  adventures 
through  which  he  has  passed  in  Europe  and  the  United 
States,  and  the  various  sights  he  has  seen.  In  his  "  His- 
tory "  *  the  dramatist  modestly  speaks  of  the  work  as  a 
"  trifle;  "  but  he  dwells  with  pardonable  pride  on  the 
pleasure  which  Washington  appeared  to  take  in  the 
piece. 

"  The  eyes  of  the  audience  were  frequently  bent  upon 
his  countenance,"  he  says,  "  and  to  watch  the  emotions 
produced  by  any  particular  passage  upon  him  was  the 
simultaneous  employment  of  all.  When  Wignell,  as 
Darby,  recounted  what  had  befallen  him  in  New  York,  at 
the  adoption  of  the  Federal  Constitution,  and  the  inaugu- 
ration of  the  President,  the  interest  expressed  by  the 
audience  in  the  looks  and  the  changes  of  countenance  of 
this  great  man  became  intense.  He  smiled  at  these 
lines  alluding  to  the  change  in  the  government  — 

1  There  too  I  saw  some  mighty  pretty  shows; 
A  revolution,  without  blood  or  blows, 

1  "  History  of  the  American  Theatre." 

95 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

For,  as  I  understood,  the  cunning  elves, 
The  people,  all  revolted  from  themselves/ 

"But  at  these  lines  — 

"  '  A  man  who  fought  to  free  the  land  from  wo, 
Like  me,  had  left  his  farm,  a  soldiering  to  go. 
But,  having  gained  his  point,  he  had,  like  me, 
Returned  his  own  potato  ground  to  see. 
But  there  he  could  not  rest.    With  one  accord 
He's  called  to  be  a  kind  of  —  not  a  lord  — 
I  don't  know  what,  he's  not  a  great  man  sure, 
For  poor  men  love  him  just  as  he  were  poor.' 

the  president  looked  serious;   and  when  Kathleen  asked 
"  '  How  looked  he,  Darby?    Was  he  short  or  tall?  ' 

his  countenance  showed  embarrassment,  from  the  ex- 
pectation of  one  of  those  eulogiums  which  he  had  been 
obliged  to  hear  on  many  public  occasions,  and  which 
must  doubtless  have  been  a  severe  trial  to  his  feelings; 
but  Darby's  answer  that  he  had  not  seen  him,  because 
he  had  mistaken  a  man  '  all  lace  and  glitter,  botherum 
and  shine  '  for  him  until  all  the  show  had  passed,  relieved 
the  hero  from  apprehension  of  further  personality,  and 
so  he  indulged  in  that  which  was  with  him  extremely 
rare,  a  hearty  laugh." 

William  Dunlap,  whose  production  was  thus  enjoyed 
by  the  Father  of  His  Country,  was  the  first  American 
man  of  letters  who  made  play- writing  a  profession;  he 
wrote  or  adapted  as  many  as  sixty- three  dramatic  pieces. 
He  also  drew  and  sketched  somewhat  —  he  had  enjoyed 

96 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  privilege  of  art  instruction  in  England  under  Ben- 
jamin West  —  and  he  furthermore  turned  out  a  number 
of  biographies,  including  one  of  George  Frederick  Cooke. 

Of  this  production,  Lord  Byron  wrote:  "  Such  a 
book!  I  believe,  since  '  Drunken  Barnaby's  Journal,' 
nothing  like  it  has  drenched  the  press.  All  green-room 
and  tap-room,  drams  and  the  drama.  Brandy,  whiskey- 
punch,  and,  latterly,  toddy  overflow  every  page.  Two 
things  are  rather  marvelous;  first,  that  a  man  should 
live  so  long  drunk,  and  next  that  he  should  have  found  a 
sober  biographer."  Seilhamer  says  that  Cooke's  love 
for  the  bottle  is  exaggerated  in  Dunlap's  memoir,  and 
though  this  seems  to  me  impossible,  I  do  feel  that  since 
Cooke,  when  sober,  was  a  very  great  actor,  his  biographer 
might  have  given  us  more  about  his  playing  and  less 
about  his  potations.  T)|iijajVs  "  History  of  the  American 
Theatre  "  was  written  when  the  author  was  quite  an 
old  man;  it  would  seem  generous  to  attribute  to  this 
fact  the  book's  various  inaccuracies.  It  should,  moreover, 
be  remembered  that  it  is  a  much  simpler  thing  to  come 
along  now  and  throw  stones  *  at  Dunlap  than  it  was, 
nearly  a  hundred  years  ago,  to  get  together  the  highly 
interesting  data  he  presents  concerning  the  early  theatre 
in  America. 

The  fact  that  Dunlap's  father  was  a  Loyalist  had  a 
good  deal  to  do  with  the  great  love  for  the  theatre  which 
young  William  early  exhibited.  For,  though  the  lad  was 
born  at  Perth  Amboy,  New  Jersey  (February  10,  1766), 

1  Seilhamer,  though  he  does  not  scruple  to  quote  Dunlap  when  it 
serves  his  purpose  to  do  so,  never  mentions  the  man  without  a  sneer. 

97 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

his  family  removed  to  New  York  during  the  occupation  of 
that  city  by  the  British.  Thus  the  boy  was  able  to 
see  most  of  the  plays  put  on  by  the  military  Thespians 
there.  When  the  war  closed,  he  went  to  England  to 
study  drawing,  but  inasmuch  as  a  missile  thrown  by  a 
boyhood  playmate  had  deprived  him  of  the  use  of  his 
right  eye,  he  was  considerably  hampered  as  an  artist,  and 
so  spent  a  large  part  of  his  time  in  London  at  the  theatre. 
When  he  returned  to  America  to  find  Royall  Tyler's  play 
enjoying  a  great  success,  he  determined  to  become  a 
dramatist.  And  he  did.  His  first  comedy  was  called 
"  The  Modest  Soldier;  or,  Love  in  New  York;  "  his 
second,  "  The  Father,  or  American  Shandyism."  The 
one  which  we  have  seen  Washington  enjoying  was  his 
third. 

Dunlap  soon  became  a  manager  as  well  as  a  playwright, 
and  he  was  thus  on  the  inside  of  many  of  the  theatrical 
enterprises  of  his  day.  More  than  any  other  Ameri- 
can of  his  generation,  indeed,  he  was  in  a  position  to  note 
the  development  of  the  stage  in  this  country  —  and  to 
record  those  temperamental  clashes  behind  the  scenes 
which  have  so  much  to  do  with  the  making  of  theatrical 
history.  A  good  deal  of  what  he  wrote  in  his  "  History  " 
is  of  no  interest  to  us  to-day;  and  not  a  little  of  what  he 
has  painstakingly  recorded  at  great  length  is  exceedingly 
trivial.  Here  and  there,  however,  we  find  in  his  pages 
things  which  are  very  interesting  for  the  light  they  throw 
upon  the  customs  of  the  times.  Such  is  the  debit  and 
credit  account  of  a  performance  of  "  Othello,"  given  by 
Douglass  in  New  York  in  1761 : 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

s.  £  s.    d. 

Box  tickets  sold  at  the  door,  116   @    8  46  8 

Pit  146          5  36  10 

Gallery  90          3  13  10 

Cash  received  at  the  doors  36  12     6 


£133     oo     6 

CHARGES 

To  candles,  26  Ib.  of  spermaceti  at  35.  6d.  )      <? 
14  Ib.      tallow  is.        ) 

To  music,  Messrs.  Harrison  &  Van  Dien- 

val  at  363.  3     12 

To  the  front  door-keeper,  i6s.,  stage  door- 
keeper, 8s.  i      4 

To  the  assistants,  135.,  bill  sticker,  45.  17 

To  the  men's  dresser,  43.,  stage  keeper, 
325.,  drummer,  45.  2 

To  wine  in  the  second  act,  2s.  6d.  2     6 

To  Hugh  Gaine,  for  two  sets  of  bills,  ad- 
vertisements, and  commissions  5     10 


£18     10    6 
Balance  £114  los. 

It  is  also  to  Dunlap  that  we  owe  that  story  about 
Henry's  coach.  "  Henry  was  the  only  actor  in  America 
who  kept  a  carriage.  It  was  in  the  form  of  a  coach,  but 
very  small,  just  sufficient  to  carry  himself  and  wife  to 
the  theatre;  it  was  drawn  by  one  horse  and  driven  by 
a  black  boy.  Aware  of  the  jealousy  toward  players,  and 
that  it  would  be  said  he  kept  a  coach,  he  had  caused  to  be 
painted  on  the  doors,  in  the  manner  of  those  coats  of 
arms  which  the  aristocracy  of  Europe  display,  two 

99 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

crutches  in  heraldic  fashion,  with  the  motto,  f  This  or 
these.'  " 

In  this  little  box  the  actor,  who  was  lame,  was  wont  to 
be  transported,  with  his  wife  (dressed  for  the  character 
she  was  to  play)  by  his  side,  to  the  theatre  in  John  Street, 
from  his  two-story  brick  house,  painted  yellow,  on  Fulton 
Street,  between  Nassau  arid  Broadway,  —  the  same 
house  in  which  Hodgkinson,  who  succeeded  Henry  as 
Hallam's  partner,  lived  later.  In  Hodgkinson's  day  a 
gate  opened  from  the  back  of  this  house  directly  opposite 
Theatre  Alley. 

John  Hodgkinson  was  an  interesting  person.  Bernard 
speaks  of  him  as  "  the  provincial  Garrick,"  and  there 
seems  little  doubt  that  he  was  a  man  of  considerable 
talent.  His  family  name  was  Meadowcroft,  and  his 
father  had  kept  a  public  house  at  Manchester,  where 
John  was  potboy.  The  father  dying,  John's  mother 
married  again,  and  John  was  bound  as  an  apprentice. 
He  sang  in  the  choir  of  one  of  the  Manchester  churches, 
and  at  the  same  time  taught  himself  to  play  the  violin 
well.  He  was  also  the  leading  spirit  in  a  little  band  of 
amateur  actors  who  gave  their  performances  in  a  cellar. 
Thus  he  was  fairly  well  fitted  to  take  an  obscure  part  on 
the  stage,  when,  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  he  ran  away  from 
Manchester  to  Bath.  After  staying  in  Bath  for  some 
time,  Hodgkinson,  as  he  now  called  himself,  got  an  en- 
gagement with  a  circuit  manager  who  covered  the 
Worcester,  Derby,  Nottingham,  Wolverhampton,  Ret- 
ford,  and  Stamford  theatres.  Later  he  was  taken  on  for 
the  northern  circuit.  Here  he  worked  hard  and  lived 

100 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

hard.  "  His  professional  success  and  his  gallantries, 
running  parallel  with  each  other  like  the  two  wheels  of 
a  gig,  left  their  mark  on  every  road  he  travelled,"  is  the 
way  his  biographer  puts  it.  His  first  affaire  of  which  there 
is  record  occurred  at  Chester,  where  Miss  Chapman,  an 
American  girl  long  resident  in  England,  who  had  run 
away  from  her  husband,  placed  herself  under  his  pro- 
tection; and  when  Hodgkinson  left  the  Newcastle 
company  in  1789,  he  took  with  him  a  woman  who  had 
borne  the  Newcastle  manager  four  children,  which  she 
now  deserted.  It  was  for  the  purpose  of  sloughing  off 
this  person  that,  towards  the  end  of  1791,  he  wrote 
Hallam  and  Henry  asking  them  if  they  had  a  "  first 
line  "  vacant,  but  intimating  that  if  he  came  to  America, 
a  place  must  also  be  made  for  a  lady  whom  he  would  bring 
with  him.  This  lady,  Miss  Brett,  known  in  America  as 
Mrs.  Hodgkinson,  was  the  daughter  of  a  celebrated 
singer  connected  with  Covent  Garden  and  the  Hay- 
market  theatres.  She  herself  had  already  attained  some 
distinction  in  England  as  a  singer.  In  appearance  she 
was  petite  and  girlish,  with  blue  eyes  and  flaxen  hair.  The 
Lothario  with  whom  she  eloped  was  a  huge  creature  — 
six  feet,  ten  inches  in  height,  if  we  may  trust  Dunlap,  yet 
too  fleshy  to  appear  tall.  With  a  broad  nose,  a  round 
face,  and  gray  eyes  of  unequal  sizes,  we  may  well  be- 
lieve that  nature  had  done  much  towards  making  Hodg- 
kinson a  comical  figure.  There  are  those  who  say  he  had 
agreeable  manners.  But  Dunlap  is  not  among  them; 
he  has  very  little  praise  for  the  man,  though  he  concedes 
that,  as  an  actor,  Hodgkinson  had  his  points.  "  His 

101 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

ignorance  of  all  beyond  theatrical  limits  was  profound," 
writes  the  historian.  "  He  did  not  know  who  was  the 
author  of  '  High  Life  Below  Stairs '  at  the  time  he 
played  the  principal  character  in  the  piece.  And  at  a 
time  when  he  was  the  delight  of  the  town,  having  made 
out  a  bill  for  poetical  recitations,  he  was  sportively  asked 
by  Judge  Cozine:  '  Who  is  that  anon  you  have  got  in  the 
bill  among  the  poets?  '  and  to  the  judge's  astonishment, 
Hodgkinson  answered  in  serious  earnest  and  with  an 
air  of  one  showing  his  reading :  '  Oh,  sir,  he  is  one  of  our 
first  poets/  " 

The  American  debut  of  the  Hodgkinsons  was  made  in 
Philadelphia  on  September  26,  1792,  at  the  Southwark 
Theatre,  which  in  anticipation  of  the  competition  it 
foresaw  from  the  new  theatre  then  approaching  com- 
pletion on  Chestnut  Street,  now  put  up  strong  bills 
and  declared  itself  not  really  inaccessible.  "  Access  to  the 
old  American  Theatre  in  Southwark,"  said  Dunlap's 
Advertiser  naively,  on  the  morning  of  the  day  that  the 
new  company  was  to  make  its  bow  to  the  public,  "  is 
becoming  every  day  more  and  more  easy.  From  the 
progress  of  pavements  in  that  part  of  the  town,  riding 
and  walking  to  it  will  soon  in  no  season  be  disagreeable 
or  difficult."  Inasmuch  as  the  Southwards  patrons  had 
for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  been  finding  that 
theatre  inaccessible,  it  was  not  likely  that  just  at  the 
moment  when  a  new  and  centrally  located  building  was 
being  prepared  for  their  entertainment,  they  would  be 
thus  easily  persuaded  to  think  the  old  house  convenient. 

None  the  less,  there  was  a  good  audience  present  on 

102 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  opening  night,  when  Hodgkinson  told  the  audience, 
in  poetry  of  his  own  contriving : 

"  Across  the  vast  Atlantic  we  have  steered 
To  view  that  liberty  so  much  revered; 
To  view  the  genuine  sons  of  freedom's  cause, 
The  favor'd  land  governed  by  reason's  laws." 

And  Washington  was  there  on  November  14;  hence 
we  have  this  account  in  the  Federal  Gazette  of  the  new- 
comer's affecting  acting: 

"  When  Mr.  Hodgkinson,  as  Lord  Aimworth,  ex- 
hibited nobleness  of  mind  in  his  generosity  to  the  humble 
miller  and  his  daughter,  Patty;  when  he  found  her 
blessed  with  all  the  qualities  that  captivate  and  endear 
life,  and  knew  that  she  was  capable  of  adorning  a  higher 
sphere;  when  he  had  an  interview  with  her  upon  the 
subject  in  which  was  painted  the  amiableness  of  an  hon- 
orable passion;  and,  after  his  connection,  when  he  be- 
stowed his  benefactions  on  the  relatives,  etc.,  of  the  old 
miller,  the  great  and  good  Washington  manifested  his 
approbation  of  this  interesting  part  of  the  opera  by  the 
tribute  of  a  tear.  Nor  was  his  approbation  withheld 
in  the  afterpiece  when  Mrs.  Hodgkinson  as  Priscilla 
Tomboy,  and  Mr.  Prigmore  as  Young  Cockney,  played 
truly  up  to  nature.  The  humorous  scenes  unfolded  in 
this  piece,  being  acted  to  the  life,  received  the  approving 
smiles  of  our  President." 

Washington  was  more  at  home  in  the  Southwark, 
indeed,  than  in  any  theatre  with  which  his  name  is  as- 
sociated. For  it  chanced  that,  just  about  the  time  that 
the  seat  of  government  was  changed  from  New  York 

103 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

to  Philadelphia,  the  players  he  had  enjoyed  in  the  former 
city  shifted  their  background,  also.  Immediately  the 
east  stage-box  of  the  Philadelphia  house  was  fitted  up 
expressly  for  the  President's  accommodation.  The  seats 
were  cushioned  —  a  rare  attention  in  those  days  — 
the  interior  was  gracefully  festooned  with  red  drapery, 
and  over  the  front  of  the  box  was  placed  the  United 
States  coat  of  arms.  Great  ceremony  attended  the 
reception  of  the  President  here.  A  soldier  was  generally 
posted  at  each  stage  door;  four  soldiers  were  placed  in 
the  gallery;  a  military  guard  attended  and  a  master  of 
ceremonies  in  a  full  suit  of  black,  with  his  hair  elaborately 
powdered  in  the  fashion  of  the  time  and  holding  two 
wax  candles  in  silver  candlesticks,  was  accustomed  to 
receive  Washington  at  the  box  door  and  conduct  him  and 
his  party  to  their  seats.  The  newspapers  now  took  notice 
of  the  President's  contemplated  visits  to  the  theatre. 
The  Federal  Gazette,  for  instance,  announced,  on  January 
4,  1791,  that  on  the  following  evening  Washington 
would  attend  the  performance  of  "  The  School  for 
Scandal,"  and  "  The  Poor  Soldier,"  and,  on  the  sixth,  the 
paper  printed  a  criticism  of  the  acting  in  both  pieces, 
highly  praising  the  principals  and  the  production. 

For  a  less  stilted,  and  therefore  more  entertaining 
account  of  this  particular  evening,  let  us,  however,  turn 
to  the  sprightly  letters  of  Abigail  Adams,  who,  on  Janu- 
ary 8, 1791,  wrote  to  her  daughter:  "  I  have  been  to  one 
play,  and  here  again  we  have  been  treated  with  much 
politeness.  The  actors  came  and  informed  us  that  a 
box  was  prepared  for  us.  The  Vice-President  thanked 

104 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

them  for  their  civility,  and  told  them  he  would  attend 
whenever  the  President  did.  And  last  Wednesday  we 
were  all  there.  The  house  is  equal  to  most  of  the  theatres 
we  meet  with  out  of  France.  It  is  very  neatly  and  prettily 
fitted  up;  the  actors  did  their  best;  '  The  School  for 
Scandal '  was  the  play.  I  missed  the  divine  Farren,  but, 
on  the  whole  it  was  very  well  performed." 

Mrs.  Adams,  it  will  be  recalled,  was  in  London  with 
her  husband  when  the  latter  was  our  first  Minister  at 
the  Court  of  St.  James,  and  so  had  had  opportunity  to 
attend  the  performances  of  the  best  players  of  the  day. 
The  "  divine  Farren  "  here  alluded  to  was  Elizabeth 
Farren,  afterwards  the  Countess  of  Derby,  who,  about 
1782,  succeeded  Mrs.  Abingdon  in  comedy  leads  at  the 
Drury  Lane.  As  a  fine  lady  no  less  than  as  an  actress, 
the  Farren  was  a  great  success.  She  had  a  house  at  the 
West  End,  kept  a  carriage,  and  was  courted  by  the  no- 
bility of  both  sexes.  But  though  she  always  "  played  to 
a  single  box,"  she  did  not  otherwise  fail  in  her  duty  to 
the  public,  even  though  for  many  years  she  occupied  the 
difficult  position  of  a  countess- elect.  Lady  Teazle  was 
one  of  the  Farren's  most  successful  parts,  and  it  is  prob- 
able that  Mrs.  Adams  had  often  seen  her  in  it.  It  is 
even  possible  that  she  was  of  the  audience  on  that  oc- 
casion when  the  Earl  of  Derby  was  unexpectedly  ushered 
into  Joseph  Surface's  library !  Fanny  Kemble  relates  the 
story  thus: 

"  Mrs.  Fitzhugh  one  day  told  me  a  comical  incident 
of  the  stage  life  of  her  friend,  the  fascinating  Miss  Far- 
ren. The  devotion  of  the  Earl  of  Derby  to  her  —  which 

105 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

preceded  for  a  long  time  the  death  of  Lady  Derby,  from 
whom  he  was  separated,  and  his  marriage  to  Miss  Far- 
ren  —  made  him  a  frequent  visitor  behind  the  scenes 
on  the  nights  of  her  performances.  One  evening,  in  the 
famous  scene  in  Joseph  Surface's  library  in  '  The  School 
for  Scandal/  when  Lady  Teazle  is  imprisoned  behind  the 
screen,  Miss  Farren,  fatigued  with  standing,  and  chilled 
with  the  dreadful  draughts  of  the  stage,  had  sent  for  an 
arm-chair  and  her  furs,  and  when  the  critical  moment 
arrived,  and  the  screen  was  overturned,  she  was  revealed 
in  her  sable  muff  and  tippet,  entirely  absorbed  in  an 
eager  conversation  with  Lord  Derby,  who  was  leaning 
over  the  back  of  her  chair." 

One  of  the  interesting  productions  with  which  the 
huge  and  all-conquering  Hodgkinson  was  connected, 
first  in  New  York  and  afterwards  in  Boston,  was  a  kind 
of  opera  called  "  Tammany,  or  The  Indian  Chief," 
and  written  by  Mrs.  Anne  Julia  Hatton,  a  sister  of  Mrs. 
Siddons.  Mrs.  Hatton  attempted  the  London  stage  in 
1793,  but  not  making  any  such  success  as  was  expected  of 
a  Kemble,  she  sailed  for  New  York,  there  to  become  the 
bard  of  the  American  Democracy.  She  succeeded  in 
interesting  the  powerful  Tammany  Society  in  her  opera, 
and  their  wish  that  the  piece  should  be  produced  amount- 
ing to  a  command  in  New  York,  elaborate  preparations 
were  made  for  bringing  it  out.  A  feature  of  the  pro- 
duction was  the  gorgeous  new  set  of  scenes  painted  for  it 
by  Charles  Ciceri.  Very  tantalizingly  Dunlap  devotes 
two  pages  in  his  "  History  "  to  the  biography  of  this 
scene-painter,  about  whom  we  care  nothing,  and  does 
not  even  outline  the  plot  of  this  opera,  which  would  be  of 

106 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

considerable  interest  to  us  as  the  first  production  from 
a  woman's  pen  ever  staged  in  America. 

The  fact,  however,  that  New  York  1  was  now  making 
occasional  "productions,"  plus  the  further  fact  that 
Philadelphia  was  about  to  open  a  second  and  very  com- 
modious theatre,  added  to  the  still  more  arresting  fact 
that  even  Boston  (in  1792)  had  declared  "  stage  plays  " 
to  be  essential  to  its  happiness,  would  seem  to  prove 
that  the  theatre  had  at  last  become  an  established 
American  institution. 

The  site  selected  for  the  initial  Boston  experiment  in 
the  way  of  theatres  was  in  what  is  now  Hawley  Street, 
but  which  was  then  known  as  Board  Alley,  —  because 
originally  only  a  short  cut  from  State  Street  to  Trinity 
Church,  on  Summer  Street  —  a  region,  at  this  time,  of 
mud  and  livery  stables.  It  was  probably  one  of  these 
stables  that  was  fashioned  into  a  theatre.  Here,  at  any 
rate,  a  stage  was  erected,  and  thus  the  "  New  Exhibition 
Room  "  became  an  accomplished  fact.  Its  first  per- 
formance was  on  August  i,  1792,  its  manager  being  Mr. 
Joseph  Harper,  who  will  be  recalled  as  one  of  the  men 
associated  with  Hallam  and  Henry.  The  bill  for  the 
opening  of  this  first  Boston  playhouse  is  full  of 
colour: 

1  The  Park  Theatre,  which  dates  from  1798,  had  much  the  look  of 
theatres  of  our  own  time.  To  be  sure  it  had  a  pit,  occupied  only  by  men 
and  boys  and  equipped  with  board  benches  innocent  of  cushions.  But 
it  was  fitted  with  boxes,  which  quite  resembled  in  aspect  those  of  to- 
day, a  second  tier,  and  a  third  tier.  In  the  second  tier  of  this  early  Park 
Theatre  there  was  a  restaurant.  The  third  tier  —  set  apart,  as  in 
most  theatres  of  the  period,  for  the  dissolute  of  both  sexes  —  was 
equipped  with  a  bar.  In  the  space  between  the  pit  and  the  boxes,  gentle- 
men of  the  audience  promenaded  between  the  acts. 

107 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

NEW  EXHIBITION  ROOM 

Board  Alley 
Feats  of  Activity 

This  evening,  the  loth  of  August,  will  be  exhibited  dancing  on 

the  Tight  Rope  by  Monsieurs  Placide  and  Martin. 

Mons.  Placide  will  dance  a  Hornpipe  on  a  Tight 

Rope,  play  a  Violin  in  various  attitudes,  and 

jump  over  a  cane  backwards  and  forwards. 

INTRODUCTORY  ADDRESS 
By  Mr.  Harper 

SINGING 
By  Mr.  Wools 

Various  feats  of  tumbling  by  Mons.  Placide  and  Martin,  who 
will  make  somersetts  backwards  over  a  table,  chair  etc. 

Mons.  Martin  will  exhibit  several  feats  on  a  Slack  Rope. 
In  the  course  of  the  Evening's  Entertainment  will  be  de- 
livered 

THE  GALLERY  OF  PORTRAITS 

( 

THE  WORLD  AS  IT  GOES 

By  Mr.  Harper 

The  whole  to  conclude  with  a  Dancing  Ballet  called  The  Bird 
Catcher  with  the  Minuet  de  la  Cour  and  the  Gavot. 

108 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

The  steps  leading  up  to  these  "  feats  of  activity  "  in 
Board  Alley  are  full  of  interest.  On  June  5,  1790, 
Hallam  and  Henry,  who  had  already  established  play- 
houses in  Philadelphia,  New  York,  and  Providence, 
presented  to  the  Massachusetts  Legislature  a  petition 
praying  for  leave  "  to  open  a  theatre  in  Boston  under 
proper  regulations."  The  petition  was  not  considered. 

Two  years  later,  however,  an  important  contribution 
towards  the  establishing  of  such  a  theatre  was  made  by 
John  Gardiner,  who,  in  a  speech  which  he  delivered  in 
the  House  of  Representatives  on  the  expediency  of  re- 
pealing the  law  against  theatrical  exhibitions,  gave  evi- 
dence of  deep  learning  as  well  as  of  a  fine  spirit  of  tol- 
eration. As  this  speech,  when  printed,  makes  nearly 
thirty  thousand  words,  it  must  have  consumed  several 
hours  in  its  delivery.  The  honourable  Legislators 
could  not  have  failed,  as  they  listened,  to  learn  a  great 
deal  about  the  history  of  the  drama. 

"  I  have  lately  dedicated  a  small  portion  of  my  early 
morning  hours  from  other  public  business  to  investigate 
this  subject,"  confessed  Mr.  Gardiner  naively  at  the 
outset  of  his  speech,  "  inasmuch  as  the  drama  and  theat- 
rical exhibitions  have  been  hitherto  unknown  in  this 
country,  and  their  history,  nature  and  tendency  little 
understood."  Whereupon  he  proceeds  to  argue  that 
"  a  theatre  will  be  of  very  general  and  great  emolumen- 
tary  advantage  to  the  town  of  Boston,"  because  work- 
men must  be  employed  to  build  it,  and  printers  retained 
to  get  out  its  playbills  after  it  has  been  built.  Moreover, 
he  points  out:  "  Strangers  who  visit  us  complain  much  of 

109 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  want  of  public  places  of  resort  for  innocent  and  ra- 
tional amusement;  as  in  the  summer  and  the  fall  months, 
our  only  public  places  of  resort  for  amusement  (the 
Concert  and  Assemblies)  are  dead  and  unknown  among 
us.  ...  Did  the  town  of  Boston  possess  a  well  regulated 
theatre,  these  strangers  would,  most  probably,  spend 
double  the  periods  of  time  they  generally  pass  in  this 
town,  to  the  great  advantage  of  stable-keepers,  the 
keepers  of  lodging  houses,  ...  the  hairdresser,  the 
shoemaker,  the  milliner "  and  many  others.  For  a 
man,  Mr.  Gardiner  had  a  wonderfully  keen  appreciation 
of  the  relation  between  plays  and  plumes. 

That  the  ancient  drama  "  took  its  rise  in  religion," 
that  St.  Paul  quoted  liberally  from  Greek  poets  and 
Greek  writers  of  comedy,  and  that  "  the  Song  of  Moses 
is  a  sacred  dramatic  performance  "  were  other  arresting 
ideas  set  forth  in  the  early  part  of  this  speech.  Following 
which,  it  was  argued  that  the  manners  of  the  Bostonians 
needed  the  improvement  that  must  inevitably  follow 
carefully  regulated  dramatic  entertainments!  For,  of 
course,  it  was  decent  drama  only  that  this  good  citizen 
wanted,  and  to  ensure  such,  he  suggested  the  appoint- 
ment of  "  five  or  more  censors  who  should  be  annually 
chosen  in  town  meeting  from  among  the  worthy  frater- 
nity of  tradesmen,  the  respectable  body  of  merchants,  the 
learned  sons  of  the  law,  and  even  from  among  the  vener- 
able, enlightened,  and  truly  respectable  ministers  of  the 
gospel  in  this  great  town." 

Mr.  Gardiner's  arguments  were  opposed  by  Samuel 
Adams  and  Harrison  Gray  Otis.  None  the  less,  a  theatre 

no 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

was  soon  possible  to  Boston,  thanks  to  the  speech  from 
which  we  have  been  quoting,  an  effort  which  has  been 
called  "  the  most  scholastic  argument  in  defence  of  the 
stage  ever  written  by  an  American."  Not  that  the  ob- 
noxious law  was  repealed!  With  characteristic  Puritan 
stubbornness,  the  Massachusetts  Solons  of  that  day 
steadily  refused  to  remove  the  prohibition  from  the 
statute  books.  But  Gardiner's  speech  had  so  influenced 
public  opinion1  that,  during  the  summer  of  1792,  a 
few  gentlemen  determined  to  erect  a  theatre  in  Boston,  in 
order  to  prove  that  a  playhouse  need  not  be  the  highly 
objectionable  resort  its  detractors  doggedly  declared  it. 
As  a  devout  Bostonian,  I  should  have  much  preferred 
to  record  that  our  first  theatre  opened  with  an  apprecia- 
tive presentation  of  Shakespeare.  But  facts  are  stubborn 
things.  I  am,  however,  so  fond  as  to  believe  that  the 
gentlemen  behind  the  theatre  project  would  have  pre- 
ferred Shakespeare  for  an  opening  bill  to  the  aforemen- 
tioned "  feats;  "  the  reason  for  that  curiously  nondescript 
playbill  was  that  they  were  feeling  their  way  with  the 
law.  For  almost  two  months  "  somersetts  backward  " 
and  their  ilk  continued  to  be  the  pabulum  here  offered. 
And  then,  by  way  of  transition  to  actual  theatrical  per- 
formances, came  the  disguised  drama  which  we  have 
met  in  other  cities.  "  Othello,"  "  Romeo  and  Juliet," 

1  This  John  Gardiner,  though  the  son  of  Sylvester  Gardiner  of  Bos- 
ton, had  spent  many  of  the  impressionable  years  of  his  life  in  England 
—  which  accounts  for  his  liberal  attitude  towards  the  theatre.  His 
son,  John  Sylvester  Gardiner,  rector  of  Trinity,  was  "  for  many  years 
the  best  and  most  influential  Episcopal  minister  of  Boston."  He,  too, 
loved  the  playhouse,  as  George  Frederick  Cooke  discovered  during  his 
visit  to  Boston. 

Ill 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

and  "  Hamlet  "  were  among  the  Shakespeare  plays  thus 
masked  and  mangled  in  Boston.  Considerable  ingenuity 
was  exercised,  also,  in  remodelling  Garrick's  farce 
"  Lethe  "  into  a  satirical  lecture  called  "  Lethe,  or  JEsop 
in  the  Shades,"  "pronounced  "  by  Mr.  Watts  and  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Solomon.  Otway's  "  Venice  Preserved  "  was  an- 
nounced as  a  moral  lecture  in  five  parts,  "  in  which  the 
dreadful  effect  of  conspiracy  will  be  exemplified." 

Growing  a  bit  more  bold,  the  management  advertised 
that  on  October  5  "  the  pernicious  effect  of  libertinism 
exemplified  in  '  the  Tragical  History  of  George  Barn- 
well  or  the  London  Merchant '  "  would  be  presented  - 
still  as  a  moral  lecture,  though  delivered  by  Messrs.  Har- 
per, Morris,  Watts,  Murray,  Solomon,  Redfield,  Miss 
Smith,  Mrs.  Solomon,  and  Mrs.  Gray.  Never  before 
spoke  a  lecturer  through  so  many  mouths!  Of  course, 
the  enemies  of  the  theatre  were  not  so  stupid  as  to  miss 
the  fact  that  this  time  a  real  play  with  a  good-sized  cast 
was  being  presented  at  Board  Alley.  The  aid  of  the 
law  must  be  invoked  to  suppress  such  an  outrage!  The 
first  attempt  to  do  this  failed,  and  performances  con- 
tinued to  be  given  at  intervals  of  two  or  three  days.  On 
November  9,  Garrick's  version  of  "  The  Taming  of  the 
Shrew,"  under  the  name  of  "  Catherine  and  Petruchio," 
was  presented;  on  the  thirtieth  "  Hamlet  "  was  given, 
with  Charles  Stuart  Powell  in  the  title  character;  and 
on  December  3,  the  same  actor  assumed  the  leading 
role  in  "  Richard  III." 

Then  the  blow  fell.     During  a  performance  of  "  The 
Rivals,"  on  December  5,  Harper  was  arrested  by  Sheriff 

112 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Allen,  at  the  end  of  the  first  act,  for  violating  the  law 
against  theatrical  presentations.  The  audience,  which 
was  largely  composed  of  young  men,  was  disposed  to 
resent  this  treatment  of  their  favourite  and  proceeded 
to  tear  down  the  seal  of  the  United  States  from  the 
proscenium  arch  and  to  cut  into  pieces  the  portrait  of 
Governor  Hancock,  whose  hand  was  seen  to  be  behind  the 
arrest.  Only  when  Harper  was  admitted  to  bail  would  his 
over-strenuous  friends  desist  from  rioting  and  disperse 
to  their  several  homes.  The  following  day  they  were  all 
loweringly  on  hand  at  a  hearing  given  to  the  actor  in 
Faneuil  Hall.  Perhaps  it  was  their  presence  which  se- 
cured for  him  a  dismissal  on  the  technical  ground  of 
illegality  in  the  warrant  of  arrest.  The  fact  that  Harrison 
Gray  Otis,  who  had  hitherto  opposed  the  theatre,  was 
now  on  the  side  of  play-acting,  doubtless  had  its  effect, 
also.  But  Hancock's  opposition  did  not  slacken  in  the 
slightest,  and  in  a  subsequent  session  of  the  Legislature, 
he  alluded  to  the  theatrical  row  as  "  an  open  assault  upon 
the  laws  and  government  of  the  Commonwealth." 
That  the  people  were  determined  to  have  theatrical 
performances,  could  not  have  failed  to  make  itself  clear 
even  to  him,  however.  And  here  again  "  The  Contrast  " 
came  in  to  render  its  service  of  pacification.  For  that 
piece  by  a  native  Bostonian  of  irreproachable  character 
was  now  given  in  the  New  Exhibition  Room,  —  the  last 
performance  of  any  note  to  be  there  offered. 

The  experiment  had  been  a  success!  The  improvised 
theatre  had  served  its  purpose,  and  in  the  spring  of 
1793  it  was  taken  down,  and  a  movement  initiated  for 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  promotion  of  a  playhouse  on  a  larger  scale.  Sub- 
scribers to  the  project  were  found  among  the  best  people 
without  any  difficulty  whatever  —  this  in  spite  of  the 
opposition  of  Samuel  Adams,  who  in  1794  succeeded  Han- 
cock as  governor  and  who,  though  he  felt  himself  in 
ordinary  matters  to  be  simply  an  executive  officer,  stood 
out  stubbornly  as  long  as  he  lived  against  the  popular 
desire  for  theatrical  entertainments. 

The  new  theatre  was  located  at  the  corner  of  Federal 
and  Franklin  Streets,  and  with  its  opening  on  February 
3,  1794,  the  dramatic  history  of  Boston  may  be  said 
properly  to  have  begun.  It  was  called  the  Boston  Theatre 
(later  the  Federal  Street  Theatre)  and  was  under  the 
management  of  Charles  Stuart  Powell  and  Baker.  It 
had  been  erected  from  plans  furnished  by  Charles 
Bulfinch,  then  a  young  man,  and  a  contemporary  thus 
describes  it: 

"  It  was  one  hundred  and  forty  feet  long,  sixty-two 
feet  wide,  forty  feet  high;  a  lofty  and  spacious  edifice 
built  of  brick,  with  stone  facings,  iron  posts  and  pillars. 
The  entrances  to  the  different  parts  of  the  house  were 
distinct.  In  the  front  there  was  a  projecting  arcade 
which  enabled  carriages  to  land  company  under  cover. 
After  alighting  at  the  main  entrance,  they  passed 
through  an  elegant  saloon  to  the  staircases  leading  to 
the  back  of  the  boxes.  The  pit  and  gallery  had  separate 
entrances  on  the  sides. 

"  The  interior  was  circular  in  form,  the  ceiling  com- 
posed of  elliptical  arches  resting  on  Corinthian  pillars. 
There  were  two  rows  of  boxes,  the  second  suspended 
by  invisible  means.  The  stage  opening  was  thirty-one 
feet  wide,  ornamented  on  either  side  by  two  columns, 

114 


B  J 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

between  which  was  a  stage  door  opening  on  a  projecting 
iron  balcony.  Above  the  columns  a  cornice  and  a  bal- 
ustrade were  carried  over  the  stage  openings;  above 
these  was  painted  a  flow  of  crimson  drapery  and  the 
arms  of  the  United  States  and  the  commonwealth  blended 
with  emblems  tragic  and  comic.  A  ribbon  depending 
from  the  arms  bore  the  motto,  '  All  the  world's  a 
stage.' 

'  The  boxes  were  hung  with  crimson  silk,  and  their 
balustrade  gilded;  the  walls  were  tinted  azure,  and  the 
columns  and  fronts  of  the  boxes  straw  and  lilac.  At  the 
end  of  the  building  was  a  noble  and  elegant  dancing 
pavilion,  richly  ornamented  with  Corinthian  columns 
and  pilasters.  There  were  also  spacious  card  and  tea 
rooms  and  kitchens  with  the  proper  conveniences." 

Great  state  was  observed  in  performances  here. 
The  "  guests  "  were  met  by  a  bewigged  and  bepowdered 
master  of  ceremonies  and  escorted  to  their  boxes.  Thence, 
however,  they  could  see  the  stage  but  dimly  at  best  in 
the  feeble  light  of  candles  or  by  means  of  the  more 
objectionable,  because  smoky,  illumination  of  whale-oil 
lamps.  Moreover,  they  might  freeze  in  winter,  for  all 
the  effective  heating  apparatus  provided.  Very  likely 
it  was  to  keep  warm  that  the  gallery  gods  threw  things. 
At  any  rate,  the  orchestra  was  obliged  to  insert  a  card  in 
the  newspaper  requesting  the  audience  to  be  more  re- 
strained in  the  matter  of  pelting  the  musicians  with 
apple  cores  and  oranges.  The  music,  by  the  way,  was 
of  high  standard,  Reinagh  of  Philadelphia  being  director. 
In  short,  though  Boston  had  come  on  slowly,  it  was  now 
conceded  to  possess  the  finest  theatre  in  the  country. 


The.  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

None  the  less,  the  new  venture  was  a  constantly 
losing  one  at  first,  and  at  the  end  of  the  second 
season  Powell  retired  in  disgust  and  bankruptcy.  He 
chose  to  consider  himself  a  much  injured  person,  too, 
from  the  fact  that  the  managers  of  the  Boston,  who 
were  Federalists,  were,  as  he  believed,  using  their  play- 
house to  offend  their  political  opponents,  the  Jacobins. 
His  grievance  seemed  so  real  to  him  that  he  was  able 
to  make  it  real  to  his  friends,  and  they  promptly  set 
about  erecting  a  new  playhouse  for  him  near  the  site 
of  the  present  Tremont  Theatre.  This  was  called  The 
Haymarket;  it  was  opened  to  the  public  Decem- 
ber 26,  1796,  the  bill  offered  being  "  The  Belle's  Strat- 
agem." 

Though  very  plain  on  the  outside,  the  new  house  was 
capacious  and  elegant  within,  and  if  Boston  had  been 
large  enough  at  this  time  to  support  two  theatres,  The 
Haymarket  might  have  had  a  long  and  a  prosperous 
career.  As  it  was,  however,  the  neck-and-neck  race 
which  Powell  proceeded  to  run  with  the  Federal  Street 
house,  at  a  rate  of  expense  which  was  simply  ruinous, 
soon  swamped  the  younger  venture,  which  lacked  the 
financial  backing  of  its  rival.1  At  the  end  of  a  few 
seasons  The  Haymarket  was  abandoned,  and  in  1803  the 
building  was  razed. 

1  Even  the  destruction  of  the  Federal  Street  Theatre  by  fire  (Feb- 
ruary 2,  1798)  did  not  seriously  hamper  its  success.  For  the  structure 
was  promptly  rebuilt,  and  it  re-opened  October  29,  1798,  continuing  as 
a  theatre  until  1835,  when  it  was  converted  into  a  lecture  room  under 
the  name  of  the  "  Odeon."  It  re-opened  as  a  theatre,  under  its  old  name, 
in  1846.  In  April,  1852,  it  was  sold  and  disappears  from  theatrical 
annals. 

116 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

I  think  it  has  now  been  incontrovertibly  established, 
that  even  in  Boston  the  theatre  had  risen  to  the  dignity 
of  an  "  American  institution,"  by  the  dawn  of  the  nine- 
teenth century. 


117 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  CURIOUS  ADVENTURES  OF  CERTAIN  EARLY  ENGLISH 

STARS 

AMERICAN  managers  who  have  written  books  about 
the  stage  are  all  agreed  upon  at  least  one  point:  that  the 
downfall  of  profitable  and  artistically  successful  stock 
companies  is  directly  traceable  to  the  introduction  of 
the  "  star  "  system.  The  employment  of  eminent  actors 
for  a  limited  period  on  large  terms  began,  we  are  told, 
with  the  famous  Mrs.  Oldfield,  and  was  next  known  in 
Garrick's  and  Macklin's  cases.  Its  progress  thus  early 
however,  was  slow  and  was  confined  to  actors  of  tran- 
scendent merit.  In  America  Mrs.  Henry  was  the  first 
star  of  which  we  know,  and  in  her  case  the  distinction 
seems  to  have  been  due  to  the  fact  that  her  husband  was 
a  manager.  Then  followed  Fennell  (in  1796)  for  a  short 
time,  and  in  1803  Cooper  made  a  try  at  this  experiment, 
succeeding  so  well  that  he  was  never  again  content  to  be 
a  stock  actor. 

The  attractiveness  of  these  last-named  tragedians 
created  no  jealous  feeling  among  the  regular  performers, 
however,  for  it  was  recognized  that  there  must  be  Ham- 
lets and  Richards  and  Othellos  each  season  for  a  short 
time  in  every  city.  Nor  was  the  unhappiness  very  acute 

118 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

when  a  man  of  Cooke's  power  or  Kean's  undeniable 
ability  came  over  here  to  draw  large  houses  and  to  take 
home  big  profits;  the  theatre  was  still  the  gainer,  even 
if  its  manager  only  shared  in  the  ample  receipts.  But 
by  the  time  that  a  great  number  of  stars  of  comparatively 
minor  magnitude  had  come  to  America  —  and  gone  back 
with  their  profits  —  the  managers  had  lost  so  much  money 
that  they  could  not  even  mention  the  starring  system 
without  bitterness.  And  the  supporting  actors  were 
not  always  pleasant.1 

None  the  less,  since  it  is  to  the  stars  who  have  from 
time  to  time  burst  upon  our  vision  that  American  theatre- 
goers owe  many  of  their  most  delightful  hours,2  we  shall 
follow  in  this  book  the  adventures  of  many  of  these  inter- 
esting artists.  Which  luminaries  to  omit  will  be  a  puz- 
zling question  later  on,  but  at  the  beginning  of  our  chap- 
ter there  is  no  such  difficulty. 

First  among  the  stars,  chronologically,  as  well  as  in 
interest,  comes  George  Frederick  Cooke,  who  was  bora 
in  the  city  of  Westminster,  April  17,  1756,  made  his  pro- 

1  One  story  connected  with  Macready's  American  experiences  illus- 
trates the  exceeding  difficulty  actors  from  abroad  sometimes  had  with 
native  Americans  who  resented  being  cast  for   minor  parts.    Macready 
was  rehearsing  Hamlet  with  a  man,  who,  in  playing  Guildenstern,  con- 
tinually (as  bad  actors  are  apt  to  do)  pressed  too  near  him.    Remon- 
strances had  no  effect,  and  at  length  the  offender  came  so  very  close  that 
Macready,  thoroughly  exasperated,  demanded:   "  What,  sir,  you  would 
not  shake  hands  with  Hamlet,  would  you?  "    "  I  don't  know,"  was  the 
surly  reply,  "  I  do  with  my  own  President!  " 

2  It  is  a  fact  worthy  to  be  noted  that  visiting  stars,  such  as  Cooke, 
Kean,  and  Kemble,  could  then  find  over  here  companies  of  mixed  Eng- 
lish and  American  nationalities,  fully  able  to  support  them  in  all  the 
plays  of  their  extended  repertoires  at  all  the  then-existent  American 
centres:    New  York,   Boston,  Philadelphia,  New  Orleans,  Savannah. 
Baltimore,  St.  Louis,  and  Cincinnati. 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

fessional  debut  with  a  company  of  strolling  players  at 
Brentford  in  1776,  appeared,  for  one  night  only,  at  the 
Haymarket  Theatre,  London,  in  the  spring  of  1778,  and 
then  for  a  long  period  supported  Mrs.  Siddons,  Mrs. 
Jordan,  and  J.  P.  Kemble,  contributing  the  while  to 
the  development  of  those  tragic  powers  which  were  later 
to  astound  his  auditors.  On  October  31,  1800,  in  the 
forty-fifth  year  of  his  age,  he  first  took  the  position  he 
deserved  in  his  profession,  appearing  at  Covent  Garden 
as  Richard  III,  and  leaping  at  once  to  the  top  round  of  the 
ladder.  During  this  first  year  of  his  success  the  desire  to 
eclipse  "  Black  Jack  "  Kemble,  the  rival  of  all  his  waking 
dreams,  seems  to  have  availed  to  keep  Cooke  fairly 
sober,  but  for  the  next  ten  years  —  the  period  between 
his  first  great  success  and  his  visit  to  America  —  his 
life  was  punctuated  with  debauches  which  often  caused 
him  to  be  hissed  from  the  stage. 

For  Cooke's  performance  of  Richard  III  there  can 
be  found  nothing  but  the  highest  and  most  enthusiastic 
comment  among  the  writers  who  were  his  contemporaries. 
Crabb  Robinson  says  that  "  Nature  assisted  him  greatly 
in  the  performance  of  this  part,  his  features  being  strongly 
marked  and  his  voice  harsh.  There  is  besides  a  sort  of 
humour  in  his  acting  which  appeared  very  appropriate." 
Leigh  Hunt  pronounced  Cooke  "  the  Machiavel  of 
the  modern  stage,"  and  Macready  thought  him  so 
peculiarly  fitted  to  render  the  crooked-back  tyrant  that 
"  remembrance  of  him  served  to  detract  from  my  con- 
fidence in  assuming  the  part."  Unlike  most  actors  who 
have  played  Richard,  Cooke  never  wore  a  hump  nor 

1 20 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

made  the  tyrant's  legs  of  unequal  size.  This,  notwith- 
standing the  fact  that  these  personal  points  are  strongly 
marked  in  the  text.  Instead,  he  made  Richard  a  "  mar- 
vellous proper  man,"  as  may  be  seen  by  Sully's  por- 
trait herewith  reproduced. 

That  the  Shylock  of  this  actor  was  also  a  very  great 
piece  of  acting  we  have  ample  testimony.  Lord  William 
Pitt  Lennox,1  a  devout  worshipper  of  dramatic  genius, 
has  described  for  us  a  certain  occasion  in  Chichester, 
when  Cooke,  though  suffering  considerably  from  his 
tendency  to  drink,  played  Shylock  marvellously. 

"  Nothing,"  he  writes,  "  could  exceed  the  enthusiasm 

of  the  audience  when  Cooke  appeared  as  Shylock.    After 

a   time  he  commenced  —  '  Three   thousand  ducats  — 

well.    For  three  months  —  well.    Antonio  shall  be  bound 

-  well.'  ...  I    have    seen    the    '  supernatural '    John 

1  Lord  William  Pitt  Lennox  is  of  interest  to  Americans  who  value 
theatrical  gossip  from  the  fact  that  he  married  for  his  first  wife  Mary 
Ann  Paton,  an  early  "  queen  of  song."  Mary  Ann  is  said  to  have  com- 
posed songs  for  publication  at  the  tender  age  of  five.  Whether  this  be 
true  or  not,  it  is  a  fact  that  at  eight  she  was  appearing  in  public  as  a 
singer  under  the  patronage  of  the  nobility.  When  twenty,  she  joined 
the  Haymarket  company,  making  her  debut  August  3,  1822,  in  the  diffi- 
cult role  of  Susanna  in  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro."  She  was  then  very 
beautiful  and  had  a  compass  from  A  to  D  or  E.  Not  long  after  this 
Lord  Lennox  took  her  to  wife;  but  since  his  fortune  did  not 'allow  him 
to  withdraw  his  lady  from  public  life,  difficulties  ensued,  and  a  divorce 
through  the  Scotch  courts  was  arranged.  That  same  year  (1831)  Lady 
Lennox  married  Joseph  Woods,  a  tenor  singer,  with  whom  she  subse- 
quently made  three  visits  to  the  United  States,  all  of  which  were  emi- 
nently successful  so  far,  at  any  rate,  as  she  was  concerned.  Their  first 
appearance  in  America  was  at  the  Park  Theatre,  New  York,  September 
p,  1833,  as  the  Prince  and  Cinderella  in  the  opera  of  that  name.  In  1843 
Mrs.  Woods  entered  a  convent  for  a  time,  but  she  emerged  to  take  up 
her  operatic  duties  again,  and  when  she  died  in  1863,  she  and  her  hus- 
band were  living  happily  together  near  Manchester,  England.  During 
the  height  of  Mrs.  Woods's  success,  Lord  Lennox  often  called  on  her 
behind  the  scenes,  according  to  the  testimony  of  George  Vandenhoff. 

121 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Philip  Kemble  in  '  Coriolanus/  the  chivalrous  Charles 
as  '  Faulconbridge/  the  majestic  Siddons  as  '  Con- 
stance/ the  classical  Young  as  *  Brutus/  the  impassioned 
Kean  as  *  Richard  the  Third/  the  plaintive  O'Neil  as 
'  Juliet/  the  dignified  Somerville  as  '  Hermione/  the 
accomplished  Macready  as  '  Macbeth/  the  talented 
Charles  Kean  as  '  Hamlet/  the  pathetic  Ellen  Tree  as 
'  Desdemona/  Rachel  in  '  Les  Horaces/  Fechter  in  '  La 
Dame  aux  Camelias/  Salvini  as  '  Othello/  —  and  though 
one  and  all  in  their  respective  characters  have  evinced 
the  finest  conception,  the  most  admirable  portraiture 
of  the  noblest  creations  of  the  Bard  of  Avon,  they  have 
not  erased  from  my  mind  the  effect  produced  by  George 
Frederick  Cooke  in  the  delineation  of  '  the  Jew  that 
Shakespeare  drew.' 

"  But  when,  in  the  fourth  act,  Shylock,  with  balance 
in  hand,  was  gloating  over  his  Christian  victim,  and 
preparing  to  take  the  pound  of  flesh,  an  event  occurred 
that  nearly  paralyzed  the  audience.  In  whetting  his 
knife  to  cut  the  forfeiture  from  the  bankrupt's  breast, 
the  blade  slipped  and  nearly  severed  the  actor's  thumb; 
in  a  second  the  stage  was  deluged  with  blood.  A  cry 
for  surgical  aid  was  raised  by  those  who  witnessed  the 
accident  from  the  side  boxes  and  front  row  of  the  pit, 
and  soon  the  curtain  dropped,  the  manager  coming 
forward  to  request  the  indulgence  of  the*  audience  until 
the  medical  practitioner  could  decide  whether  Mr. 
Cooke  would  be  enabled  to  go  through  the  remainder  of 
the  performance.  This  appeal  to  the  British  public 
produced  the  desired  effect,  and  during  the  necessary 
delay  the  majority  consoled  themselves  by  refreshing 
the  inward  man  with  all  the  delicacies  the  house  could 
furnish  —  adulterated  porter,  mixed  ale,  flavourless  gin- 
ger-beer, sour  cider,  stale  cakes,  unripe  apples,  and  acrid 
plums." 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

After  a  few  minutes  of  watchful  anxiety,  the  manager 
came  forward,  Lennox  goes  on  to  say,  and  relieved  the 
minds  of  the  audience  by  reading  a  bulletin  to  the  effect 
that  tetanus  need  by  no  means  be  feared,  and  the  per- 
formance would  soon  be  resumed. 

The  manner  in  which  Cooke  was  persuaded  to  come  to 
America  is  quite  an  interesting  tale.  It  was  long  said 
that  he  was  kidnapped  while  drunk  and  brought  over 
here!  Certain  it  is  that  Cooper  offered  him  twenty-five 
guineas  a  week  for  ten  months,  to  play  at  New  York, 
Boston,  Philadelphia,  and  Baltimore,  with  a  benefit  at 
each  place  and  twenty-five  cents  a  mile  for  travelling  ex- 
penses between  the  above-mentioned  cities.  His  passage 
over  the  Atlantic  was  also  assured  outside  of  his  profits. 
Cooke  was  glad  to  accept  this  offer  but  had  to  be 
spirited  away  by  Cooper  in  one  of  his  rare  sober  spells, 
lest  the  eccentric  tragedian  change  his  mind  about  ma- 
king the  trip.  Moreover,  though  Cooper  did  not  know  it 
Cooke  was  engaged  to  Manager  Henry  Harris  of  London 
for  the  very  time  he  was  contracting  to  appear  in  Amer- 
ica. The  London  papers  condemned  both  actors  severely 
for  their  business  arrangement,  but  agreed  that  "  to 
visit  America  was  punishment  sufficient  for  any  crime. 
'  They  are  both  transported,  and  let  justice  be  satis- 
fied.'"1 

Cooke's  own  sober  impressions  of  America  are  to  be 
found  in  the  following  letter  which  he  sent  back  to  his 
friend  Incledon: 

1  "  Memoirs  of  Life  of  George  Frederick  Cooke/'  by  William  Dunlap: 
New  York,  1813. 

123 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  Boston,  New  England  (North  America) 

"  Jan.  14,  1811. 
"DEAR  SIR:  — 

"  This  is  the  first  letter  I  have  written  to  Europe,  from 
which  my  departure  was  only  the  result  of  a  few  hours' 
deliberation.  On  the  4th  of  October  last,  I  sailed  from 
Liverpool,  and  arrived  at  New- York  on  the  i6th  of 
November.  The  latter  part  of  the  voyage  very  tempes- 
tuous and  many  vessels  lost.  I  was  received  by  Mr.  Price, 
one  of  the  managers,  in  a  very  friendly  and  hospitable 
manner,  and  at  whose  house  I  remained  while  I  con- 
tinued in  that  city.  On  Wednesday,  the  2ist  of  No- 
vember, I  made  my  first  appearance  before  an  American 
audience,  and  was  received  by  a  splendid  and  crowded 
assemblage  in  a  most  flattering  manner.1  I  acted  seven- 
teen nights  to  some  of  the  greatest  houses  ever  known 
in  the  New  World.  My  own  night  exceeded  four  hun- 
dred guineas. 

"  On  the  2Qth  of  December,  in  company  with  Mr. 
Price,  I  sailed  in  one  of  the  best  passage  boats  I  ever  saw, 
for  Newport,  Rhode  Island,  which  we  reached,  after  a 
most  pleasant  trip,  in  22  hours;  and  after  a  short  stay, 
left  it  in  a  commodious  carriage  for  this  town.  We 
slept  on  Sunday  at  Taunton,  and  arrived  here  on  Mon- 
day. My  first  appearance  on  Thursday  following  in  the 
new  play  of  Richard,  which  was  repeated  the  next  night. 
This  was  also  my  first  play  in  New- York,  where  they 
had  it  three  times,  and  so  will  the  good  people  here. 
The  house  filled  as  at  New- York,  and  my  reception 
equally  flattering.  New- York  is  the  handsomest  and 
largest  house.  We  return  to  that  city  on  Saturday,  the 
29th,  and  about  the  loth  of  March  journey  on  to  Phil- 
adelphia, from  thence  to  Baltimore,  where  my  engage- 

1  For  this  performance  of  Richard  III  at  the  Park  Theatre,  the  re- 
ceipts were  $1155. 

124 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

ment  ends;  but  I  shall  return  to  New- York,  to  embark 
for  Liverpool.  My  time  was  passed  at  the  last  mentioned 
city  in  a  most  agreeable  manner,  as  almost  every  day, 
not  of  business,  we  had  parties  at  Mr.  Price's,  or  at  the 
houses  of  some  of  the  principal  inhabitants.  We  are 
going  on  the  same  way  here,  with  this  exception,  we  are 
lodged  at  the  Exchange  Coffee-house,  one  of  the  largest 
and  most  extraordinary  buildings  I  ever  saw,  and  of 
consequence  I  miss  and  regret  the  kind,  polite  attention 
of  Mrs.  P.  at  whose  house  I  imagined  myself  in  my  own, 
and  feel  highly  gratified  at  the  near  prospect  of  return- 
ing to  it.  Mr.  Bernard  is  one  of  the  managers  here;  but 
I  believe  retires  from  it  at  the  conclusion  of  the  season. 
Theatricals  are  conducted  at  both  theatres  in  a  very 
respectable  manner,  and  the  companies  superior  to  what 
I  expected  to  meet  —  I  may  add,  much  so. 

"G.  F.  COOKE." 

The  coitleur  de  rose  descriptions  here  embalmed  were 
very  annoying  to  Cooke  when,  in  due  time,  an  American 
paper  copied  from  the  London  sheet,  to  which  Incledon 
had  promptly  given  this  letter,  the  English  actor's 
early  impressions  of  the  New  World;  by  this  time, 
Cooke  was  finding  the  restraints  incident  to  being  a 
guest  of  the  Prices  most  annoying  to  one  of  his 
habits.  For  the  "  frequent  entertainments  "  to  which 
his  letter  refers  were  still  being  kept  up.  One,  a  tea- 
party  at  the  paternal  home  of  John  Howard  Payne, 
author  of  "  Home,  Sweet  Home,"  Dunlap  describes  as 
follows: 

"  When  Master  Payne  arrived  with  a  coach  to  convey 
him  to  the  tea-party,  Cooke  was  charged  much  higher 
with  wine  than  with  wit.  He  was,  however,  dressed, 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

and  as  he  thought  prepared,  and  it  would  not  do  on  his 
companion's  part  to  suggest  anything  to  the  contrary. 
.  .  .  They  arrived,  and  Cooke  .  .  .  was  introduced  into 
a  large  circle  of  gentlemen,  distinguished  for  learning,  or 
wit,  or  taste;  and  ladies  equally  distinguished  for  those 
acquirements  and  endowments  most  valued  in  their 
sex.  A  part  of  the  property  of  the  tragedian,  which  had 
been  seized  by  the  custom-house  officials  under  the  non- 
importation law,  had  not  yet  been  released,  owing  to 
some  delay  from  necessary  form,  and  this  was  a  con- 
stant subject  of  irritation  to  him,  particularly  that 
they  should  withhold  from  him  the  celebrated  cups 
presented  to  him  by  the  Liverpool  managers:  and 
now  his  introductory  speech  among  his  expecting  circle 
was  addressed  to  one  of  the  gentlemen  with  whom 
he  was  acquainted,  and  was  an  exclamation  with- 
out any  prefatory  matter  of  '  they  have  stolen  my 
cups.' 

"  The  astonishment  of  such  an  assembly  may  be  im- 
agined. .  .  .  His  cups  triumphed  over  every  image  sub- 
sequently presented  to  his  imagination.  '  Madam,  they 
have  stopped  my  cups.  .  .  .  And  my  Shakespeare  — 
they  had  better  keep  that:  they  need  his  instruction 
and  may  improve  by  him  —  if  they  know  how  to  read 
him.' 

"  Seeing  a  print  of  Kemble  in  Rolla,  he  addressed  it: 
1  Ah,  John,  are  you  there!'  then,  turning  to  Master 
Payne,  he  in  his  half  whispering  manner  added :  '  I 
don't  want  to  die  in  this  country  —  John  Kemble  will 
laugh.' 

"  Among  the  company  was  an  old  and  tried  revolu- 
tionary officer  —  a  true  patriot  of  '76.  Hearing  Cooke 
rail  against  the  country  and  the  government,  he  at  first 
began  to  explain  and  then  to  defend;  but  soon  finding 
what  his  antagonist's  situation  was,  he  ceased  opposi- 

126 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

tion.  Cooke  continued  his  insolence,  and  finding  that 
he  was  unnoticed,  and  even  what  he  said  in  the  shape  of 
query  unattended  to,  he  went  on :  l  That's  right,  you  are 
prudent  —  the  government  may  hear  of  it  —  walls  have 
ears.' 

"  Tea  was  repeatedly  presented  to  him,  which  he  re- 
fused. The  little  black  girl  with  her  server  next  offered 
him  cake  —  this  he  rejected  with  some  asperity.  Fruit 
was  offered  to  him  and  he  told  the  girl  that  he  was  l  sick 
of  seeing  her  face.'  Soon  after,  she  brought  him  wine. 
'  Why,  you  little  black  angel,'  says  Cooke,  taking  the 
wine,  (  you  look  like  the  devil,  but  you  bear  a  passport 
that  would  carry  you  unquestioned  into  paradise.'  ' 

No  wonder  the  company  "  separated  early." 

Many  and  noted  were  Cooke's  little  pleasantries  of 
this  kind  while  in  society.  In  Baltimore  a  gentleman 
in  whose  home  he  was  being  entertained  chanced  to  ob- 
serve that  his  family  were  among  the  first  settlers  of 
Maryland.  "  Have  you  carefully  preserved  the  family 
jewels?  "  inquired  Cooke  blandly.  "  Why,  what  do  you 
mean?  "  questioned  his  host.  "  The  chains  and  hand- 
cuffs! "  was  the  visitor's  reply. 

It  was  at  Baltimore,  too,  on  being  informed  that  Mr. 
Madison,  the  President  of  the  United  States,  purposed 
to  come  from  Washington  to  see  him  act,  he  declared 
violently:  "  If  he  does,  I'll  be  damned  if  I  play  before 
him.  What?  I!  George  Frederick  Cooke!  who  have 
acted  before  the  Majesty  of  Britain,  play  before  your 
Yankee  president !  No !  — I'll  go  forward  to  the  audience, 
and  I'll  say,  '  Ladies  and  gentlemen  —  the  king  of  the 
Yankee  doodles  has  come  to  see  me  act.  Me,  me,  George 

127 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Frederick  Cooke!  who  have  stood  before  my  royal 
master,  George  the  Third,  and  received  his  imperial 
approbation!  And  shall  I  expect  myself  to  play  before 
one  of  his  rebellious  subjects,  who  arrogates  kingly  state 
in  defiance  of  his  master?  No,  it  is  degrading  enough  to 
play  before  rebels,  but  I  will  not  go  on  for  the  amusement 
of  a  king  of  rebels,  the  contemptible  king  of  the  Yankee 
doodles!'" 

That  Cooke  consented  to  marry  a  daughter  of  the 
"  Yankee  doodles  "  seems  only  less  remarkable  than 
that  he  was  sober  long  enough  to  go  through  a  wedding 
ceremony.  His  biographer  says  that  Mrs.  Bahn,  to 
whom  he  was  united  in  New  York  on  June  20,  1811, 
"  proved  to  be  a  faithful  help-mate  and  affectionate  nurse 
to  the  day  of  his  death."  l  The  period  of  her  service 
was  only  a  little  over  a  year,  for  he  died  at  Bixby's  Hotel, 
New  York,  September  26,  1812,  aged  fifty-seven  years 
and  five  months. 

His  remains  were  buried  in  a  vault  beneath  St.  Paul's 
Church,  where  they  rested  nine  years.  In  1821,  however, 
Edmund  Kean,  who  was  then  acting  over  here,  caused 
them  to  be  disinterred  and  laid  in  a  grave  in  the  church- 


1  Mrs.  Cooke,  after  her  husband's  death,  kept  a  boarding-house 
which  was  much  liked  by  theatrical  and  artistic  people.  Joe  Cowell, 
who  first  came  to  New  York  in  1821,  tells  of  a  dinner  he  enjoyed  there 
the  Sunday  after  his  arrival,  as  the  guest  of  Edmund  Simpson,  one  of 
the  managers  of  the  Park  Theatre.  "  Simpson  had  only  been  married 
a  short  time,  and,  like  myself  and  others,  was  waiting  till  the  first  of 
May  to  go  into  housekeeping;  but  he  gave  a  very  handsome  dinner,  on 
Sunday,  at  his  boarding-house,  kept  by  the  widow  of  George  Frederick 
Cooke,  where  I  met  Price's  two  brothers,  William  and  Edward  Noah, 
Jarvis,  the  celebrated  painter,  and  most  eccentric  character,  and  a  large 
party  of  gentlemen." 

128 


Q      W 
tf      H 


It 


l! 

w  ^ 


EDMUND    KEAN    AS    OTHELLO 

After  a  drawing  from  life  by  John  William  Gear 

See  page  132 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

yard  over  which  he  erected  the  tomb  l  which  has  since 
been  repaired,  first  by  Charles  Kean,  and  later  (in  1874) 
by  E.  A.  Sothern.  At  the  time  of  this  disinterment, 
Kean  carried  off  the  toe-bone  of  Cooke,  and  Dr. 
Francis,  for  phrenological  purposes,  took  possession 
of  the  great  tragedian's  skull.  Once,  several  years 
afterwards,  this  very  skull  was  used  at  the  Park  Theatre 
in  a  performance  of  "  Hamlet,"  having  been  lent  to 
the  management,  in  an  emergency,  by  Cooke's  old 
friend,  Francis. 

Of  Edmund  Kean,  who  first  came  to  our  shores  in 
1820,  Coleridge  once  felicitously  remarked  that  "  seeing 
Kean  act  was  like  reading  Shakespeare  by  flashes  of 
lightning  "  —  so  brilliant  and  so  startling  were  the  sud- 
den illuminations,  and  so  murky  the  dull  intervals. 
George  Henry  Lewes  ranked  Kean  with  Rachel  only, 
"  who  was  as  a  woman  what  he  was  as  a  man,"  and  de- 
clared him  incomparably  the  greatest  actor  he  had  ever 
seen,  although  admitting  that  he  had  "  many  and  serious 
defects."  An  artist,  however,  should  be  judged  not  by 
his  faults,but  by  his  excellencies,  and  a  man  who  was  filled 
with  such  passionate  energy  when  on  the  stage  that  he 
could  throw  Lord  Byron  into  a  fit  (as  happened  once 
when  the  poet  had  been  witnessing  Kean's  rendering 

1  Kean  was  very  proud  of  this  service  which  he  was  able  to  render 
Cooke,  and  once,  after  his  own  return  from  America,  he  requested  a 
guest  at  a  supper-party  he  was  giving,  to  make  an  epitaph  for  thefstone. 
Of  course  he  expected  something  which  would  couple  his  name,  in 
complimentary  fashion,  with  that  of  the  great  Cooke.  What  he  got, 
however,  was  this  —  according  to  George  Vandenhoff ,  who  preserves  the 
story: 

"  Beneath  this  stone  lies  Cooke  interr'd; 
And  with  him,  —  Shakespeare's  Dick  The  Third!  " 

I29 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

of  the  part  of  Sir  Giles  Overreach)  certainly  possessed 
powers  of  no  ordinary  kind. 

It  has  been  said  that  Kean  owed  nothing  to  his  parents 
but  his  birth;  and  this  is  almost  literally  true,  for  the 
woman  who  was  supposed  to  be  his  mother  gave  him 
scarcely  any  care  at  all,  and  for  such  sporadic  "  bringing 
up  "  as  fell  to  his  lot  he  was  indebted  to  a  Miss  Tidswell, 
an  actress  connected  with  Drury  Lane,  who  called  her- 
self his  aunt.  The  date  of  the  lad's  birth  is  usually  given 
as  1787,  and  it  is  known  that  when  a  mere  baby  he  ap- 
peared on  the  stage  of  old  Drury  as  Cupid.  What  scant 
schooling  he  received  was  at  a  small  day  establishment 
in  Soho;  but  from  this  he  ran  away,  as,  indeed,  he  con- 
tinued all  his  life  to  do  from  whatever  of  restraint  or 
duty  chanced  to  fall  to  his  lot.  The  precarious  life  of  a 
strolling  actor  was  his  throughout  boyhood  and  youth, 
the  name  under  which  he  played  at  this  period  being  that 
of  his  reputed  mother,  Miss  Carey.  His  twenty-first 
birthday,  however,  found  him  married  —  to  an  actress 
with  whom  for  the  next  few  years  he  underwent  almost 
unbelievable  hardships.  Once  husband  and  wife  tramped 
over  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  one  town  where  they 
had  been  playing  to  another  town  where  they  had  suc- 
ceeded in  securing  a  fairly  promising  engagement.  It 
was  during  this  period  of  terrible  privation  that  the 
actor's  two  sons  were  born,  one  of  whom,  Howard,  died 
in  infancy  as  a  result  of  want  and  exposure.  Edmund 
Kean  knew  thoroughly  at  this  period  the  pangs  of  grind- 
ing poverty.  Yet  he  felt  within  himself  those  great 
powers  which  were  soon  to  be  acclaimed  by  the  world, 

130 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

and  he  never  once  lost  his  determination  to  climb  to  the 
very  top  of  his  profession. 

Kean  has  himself  written  vividly  the  story  of  his 
early  experiences  in  England.  On  a  certain  night  in  the 
year  1814  he  was  playing  at  Dorchester  and  "  when  the 
curtain  drew  up,"  he  says,  "  I  saw  a  wretched  house:  a 
few  persons  in  the  pit  and  gallery  and  three  persons  in  the 
boxes.  In  the  stage  box,  however,  there  was  a  gentleman 
who  appeared  to  understand  acting  —  he  was  very 
attentive  to  the  performance.  Seeing  this,  I  was  deter- 
mined to  play  my  best.  The  strange  man  did  not  applaud 
but  his  looks  told  me  that  he  was  pleased."  Later  in  the 
evening  this  "  strange  gentleman,"  who  proved  to  be 
the  manager  of  the  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  asked  Kean 
to  breakfast  with  him  the  following  day,  —  and  a  Lon- 
don offer  followed  duly. 

At  first  London  was  cold  to  this  miserable,  half-starved 
actor  from  the  provinces,  but  before  the  end  of  Kean's 
Shylock,  that  first  night,  his  auditors  perceived  that  a 
very  great  actor  was  there  before  them.  "  The  pit 
rose  at  me,"  was  his  own  oft-quoted  description  of  his 
triumph. 

"  A  man  who  asserts  his  claim  to  suffer  as  one  of  a 
race  of  sufferers  "  was  this  Shylock.  Kean  understood 
being  "  spat  upon."  A  writer  in  Blackwood's  Magazine 
seems  to  appreciate  this. 

"  Edmund  Kean,"  he  says,  "was  an  extraordinary 
actor  and  an  extraordinary  man.  Without  any  advan- 
tages of  education,  and  perhaps  with  all  the  disadvan- 
tages that  could  beset  a  birth  and  youth  of  poverty  and 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

desertion  —  for  he  seems  never  to  have  known  who  his 
father  was,  and  even  his  mother's  identity  was  doubt- 
ful —  he  yet  struggled  through  difficulties  that  might 
have  destroyed  a  mind  of  less  energy,  until  he  achieved 
triumphant  success.  With  no  recommendation  of  per- 
son —  a  low  and  meagre  figure,  a  Jewish  physiognomy, 
a  stifled  and  husky  voice  — he  seemed  to  be  excluded 
by  nature  from  all  chance  of  personating  tragedy;  yet 
at  his  first  step  on  the  London  stage  he  was  acknowledged 
to  be  the  founder  of  a  new  school,  to  give  new  meaning 
to  some  of  the  highest  characters  of  Shakespeare;  to 
refresh  the  feelings  and  change  the  worship  of  those 
who  had  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  bowed  down  to  the 
supremacy  of  the  Kembles;  and  finally  to  pour  a  new 
and  most  welcome  flood  of  wealth  into  the  long-exhausted 
treasury  of  the  theatre." 

For  while  the  Kemble  school  was  acknowledged 
to  be  magnificent  and  majestic,  Kean  was  declared  a 
school  by  himself,  a  school  whose  spirit  was  vividness, 
poignancy,  and  intensity.  Fanny  Kemble  once  very 
touchingly  paid  tribute  to  the  unique  powers  of  this 
man  who  eclipsed  her  father. 

"  Kean  is  gone  and  with  him  are  gone  Othello,  Shy- 
lock,  and  Richard.  I  have  lived  among  those  whose 
theatrical  creed  would  not  permit  them  to  acknowledge 
him  as  a  great  actor;  but  they  must  be  bigoted,  indeed, 
who  would  deny  that  he  was  a  great  genius  —  a  man  of 
most  original  and  striking  powers,  careless  of  art,  per- 
haps because  he  did  not  need  it,  but  possessing  those 
rare  gifts  of  nature  without  which  art  is  a  dead  body. 
Who  that  ever  heard  will  ever  forget  the  beauty,  the 
unutterable  tenderness  of  his  reply  to  Desdemona's  en- 

132 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

treaties  for  Cassio,  '  Let  him  come  when  he  will;  I  can 
deny  thee  nothing; '  the  deep  despondency  of  his  '  Oh, 
now  farewell; '  the  miserable  anguish  of  his  '  Oh,  Des- 
demona,  away,  away!  '  Who  that  ever  saw  will  ever 
forget  the  fascination  of  his  dying  eyes  in  Richard  when, 
deprived  of  his  sword,  the  wondrous  power  of  his  look 
seemed  yet  to  avert  the  unlifted  arm  of  Richmond.  If 
he  was  irregular  and  unartistlike  in  his  performance,  so 
is  Niagara,  compared  with  the  waterworks  of  Ver- 
sailles/' 

In  the  course  of  his  first  season  at  Drury  Lane,  Kean 
played  sixty-eight  nights  to  audiences  of  unprecedented 
size.  His  own  share  of  the  profits  was  upward  of 
twenty  thousand  pounds.  Such  an  immediate  reward  had 
never  before  fallen  to  the  lot  of  an  actor.  Nor  did  his 
recompense  come  in  the  form  of  money  only.  Mrs. 
Garrick  took  a  very  great  interest  in  him  and  endeavoured 
to  coach  him  so  that  he  might  play  his  roles  after  the 
manner  of  "  dear  David; "  he  was  enormously  praised 
by  the  critics,  and  many  of  the  nobility  sent  him  splendid 
presents.  One  distinguished  personage  even  gave  him 
a  white  elephant  —  in  the  form  of  a  lion!  Kean  passed 
a  large  part  of  his  time  at  this  period  attempting  to  edu- 
cate this  lion  to  accommodate  himself  to  conditions  in 
Lady  Ryecroft's  house  in  Clarges  Street,  which  the  actor 
had  rented  when  prosperity  dawned. 

Kean's  tour  through  America,  where  he  opened  at  the 

Anthony  Street  Theatre,  New  York,  November  29, 1820, 

as  Richard  III,  was  one  continued  march  of  triumph 

-until  his  quarrel  with  the  people  of  Boston  late  in 

May,  1821.    Upon  a  previous  visit  to  the  New  England 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

city,  where  he  opened  February  12,  1821,  as  Richard 
III,  he  was  received  by  a  huge  and  highly  enthusiastic 
audience.  His  acting  was  the  all-engrossing  topic  of 
fashionable  discussion,  and  he  became  the  lion  of  the 
day.  Great  pressure  was  brought  to  bear  upon  him  to 
prolong  his  engagement,  which  had  been  for  a  strictly 
limited  number  of  performances,  but  inasmuch  as  he 
was  booked  elsewhere,  he  had  to  leave,  though  regretfully, 
what  he  styled  in  his  curtain  speech  on  the  last  night 
as  "  the  Literary  Emporium  of  the  New  World."  When 
he  next  found  it  convenient  to  tuck  a  few  Boston  per- 
formances into  his  schedule,  it  was  approaching  June, 
and  many  Boston  folk  were  out  of  town.  The  manager 
of  the  theatre  told  him  this  and  tried  to  dissuade  him 
from  coming,  but  Kean  replied  that  he  could  draw  at  any 
time,  and  it  seemed  that  he  was  right,  for  on  the  first 
night  of  this  second  visit,  "  King  Lear  "  being  the  offer- 
ing, a  very  fair  house  was  out.  On  the  second  night 
the  audience  was  slim,  however;  and  on  the  third, 
when  he  was  billed  as  Richard  III,  he  could  count 
only  twenty  people  in  front  upon  looking  through  the 
curtain  at  seven  o'clock.  Whereupon  he  refused  to 
prepare  for  the  performance  and  left  in  a  rage  for  his 
hotel. 

Scarcely  had  he  gone  when  the  boxes  filled  up,  and  a 
messenger  was  dispatched  to  bring  him  back.  But  he 
declined  to  come,  and  the  manager  was  obliged  to  ex- 
plain that  his  star's  refusal  to  appear  was  for  want  of 
patronage.  Of  course  those  present  were  not  pleased, 
and  the  newspapers  had  a  great  deal  to  say,  next  day, 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

about  the  scornful  way  the  tragedian  had  treated  his 
public.  Accounts  of  the  affair  spread  to  New  York,  and 
Kean  feared  a  riot.1  So  he  published  in  the  New  York 
National  Advocate  a  letter  in  which  he  endeavoured  to 
justify  himself  at  the  expense  of  Boston  audiences. 
"  My  advisers  never  intimated  to  me,"  he  caustically  ob- 
served, "  that  the  theatres  were  only  visited  during  cer- 
tain months  of  the  year;  that  when  curiosity  had  sub- 
sided, dramatic  talent  was  not  in  estimation."  For 
this  fling  he  had  to  pay  dearly,  as  we  shall  see,  when  he 
next  attempted  —  during  his  second  visit  to  America  - 
to  win  the  favour  of  a  Boston  audience. 

A  discriminating  critic  somewhere  speaks  of  the  quality 
of  Kean's  voice,  when  on  the  stage,  as  "  the  music  of  a 
broken  heart  —  the  cry  of  a  despairing  soul."  Such 
seems,  indeed,  to  have  been  true  of  this  great  actor.  He 
was  his  own  worst  enemy  —  and  he  knew  it.  Soon  he 
became  so  careless  of  consequences  that  even  the  public 
that  had  long  loved  him  and  borne  patiently  with  his 
faults,  forsook  him.  Which  brings  us  to  the  immediate 
cause  of  Kean's  second  visit  to  America  (in  1825): 
the  disgrace  into  which  he  had  fallen  in  England  on  ac- 
count of  his  relations  with  the  wife  of  a  London  alderman 
named  Cox.  Her  reputation  was  not  immaculate  and 
her  husband  appears  to  have  remained  blind  a  singularly 

1  These  disagreements  between  Kean  and  his  audiences  in  "  the 
States  "  did  not  help  him  at  all,  rather  curiously,  with  his  public  at 
home.  A  London  critic  observed,  after  his  return,  that  "  Kean's  squab- 
bles with  American  managers  have  been  as  much  protruded  upon  the 
public  as  if  they  afforded  grounds  for  another  American  war."  Another 
critic  caustically  commented  on  the  evident  conviction  of  Kean  that  he 
had  been  "  the  special  representative  of  Shakespeare  in  America." 

135 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

long  time  —  so  far  as  Kean  was  concerned  —  before  suing 
the  actor  for  the  alienation  of  his  wife's  affections.  He 
won  his  suit,  however,  and  immediately  after  the  trial,  the 
fickle  public  began  to  greet  with  hisses  in  the  theatre 
this  man  whose  work  they  had  long  acclaimed.  The  fact 
that  Kean  gave  them  scorn  for  scorn  naturally  did  not 
help  matters.  At  Edinburgh  they  hooted  him  from  the 
stage,  and  in  London,  on  one  occasion,  he  was  grudgingly 
allowed  to  say  his  lines  after  making  this  remarkable 
speech  to  his  turbulent  auditors:  "  If  you  expect  from 
me  a  vindication  of  my  private  conduct,  I  fear  I  shall 
be  unable  to  furnish  one  to  your  satisfaction.  I  stand 
before  you  as  the  representative  of  Shakespeare's  heroes. 
The  errors  I  have  committed  have  been  scanned  by  a 
public  tribunal.  In  that  investigation,  feelings  of  delicacy 
prevented  the  disclosure  of  circumstances  which  might 
have  changed  the  complexion  of  the  case.  This  proceeded 
from  feelings  for  others,  not  for  myself.  It  appears  that 
I  stand  before  you,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  a  professional 
victim.  I  apprehend  that  this  is  not  done  by  your  ver- 
dict. If  it  is  done  by  a  hostile  press  I  shall  endeavour  to 
withstand  it  —  if  it  is  your  verdict,  I  shall  bow  to  your 
decision,  remember  with  gratitude  your  former  favours, 
and  leave  you." 

The  opposition  continuing  —  and  an  invitation  to 
make  a  second  visit  to  America  opportunely  intervening 
—  Kean  decided  to  carry  out  his  threat  and  leave.  His 
wife  had  separated  herself  from  him  and  was  living  on  an 
allowance  of  £200  a  year;  Charles,  who  was  still  in 
Eton,  but  had  already  —  to  his  father's  immense  dis- 

136 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

gust  —  begun  to  display  signs  of  stage  talent,  sided  with 
his  mother.  The  boy  was  now  cut  off  without  a  penny, 
and  the  mother's  stipend  was  also  withheld!  Thus, 
Charles  Kean,  at  sixteen,  found  himself  forced  to  go  on 
the  stage  to  help  support  his  mother.  Barry  Cornwall, 
who  visited  the  elder  Kean  on  the  eve  of  this  second  trip 
to  America,  records  that  the  actor  "  had  all  the  air  of 
desperation  about  him,  and  that  his  mind  seemed 
shattered."  He  was,  in  truth,  on  the  very  edge,  now,  of 
insanity. 

As  might  have  been  expected,  this  tour  added'  nothing 
to  Kean's  American  reputation.  In  Boston,  where  his 
previous  slighting  of  his  audience  had  been  neither  for- 
gotten nor  forgiven,  he  was  received  with  hisses  and  with 
a  fusilade  of  missiles  both  hard  and  soft.  This,  too,  after 
he  had  apologized  for  his  previous  conduct  as  follows: 

"  To  the  editor,  Sir,  I  take  the  liberty  of  informing 
the  citizens  of  Boston  (through  the  medium  of  your 
journal)  of  my  arrival  in  confidence  that  liberality  and 
forbearance  will  gain  the  ascendency  over  prejudice  and 
cruelty.  That  I  have  suffered  for  my  errors,  my  loss 
of  fame  and  fortune  is  too  melancholy  an  illustration. 
Acting  from  the  impulse  of  irritation,  I  certainly  was 
disrespectful  to  the  Boston  public;  calm  deliberation 
convinces  me  I  was  wrong.  The  first  step  towards 
the  throne  of  mercy  is  confession  —  the  hope  we  are 
taught,  forgiveness.  Man  must  not  expect  more  than 
those  attributes  which  we  offer  to  God. 

"  EDMUND  KEAN. 
"  Exchange  Coffee  House. 
"Dec.  21,  1825." 

137 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Though  Kean  was  not  received  in  every  city  as  he  was 
in  Boston,  he  was  very  glad  to  return  to  England  after 
two  seasons  of  America  —  and  he  never  came  over  here 
again.  He  died,  May  15,  1833,  after  having  shown  his 
forgiveness  of  his  son  by  being  willing  to  act  with  him, 
and  having  been  reconciled  to  his  wife  by  means  of  the 
following  pathetic  letter,  written  when  death  was  very 
near: 

"  Thursday. 

"  MY  DEAR  MARY,  Let  us  no  longer  be  fools.  Come 
home.  Forget  and  forgive.  If  I  have  erred  it  was  my 
head,  not  my  heart,  and  most  severely  have  I  suffered 
for  it.  My  future  life  shall  be  employed  in  contributing 
to  your  happiness;  and  you,  I  trust,  will  return  that 
feeling,  by  a  total  obliteration  of  the  past. 
"  Your  wild, 

"  But  really  affectionate  husband, 

"  EDMUND  KEAN. 
"  Theatre  Royal, 
"  Richmond." 

Kean  passionately  desired  to  be  the  last  of  his  name  to 
be  mentioned  in  the  annals  of  the  stage.  Itwas,  therefore, 
a  really  terrible  blow  to  him  when  he  first  learned  that  his 
son  was  resolved  to  go  on  the  stage.  Actual  evidence  that 
the  important  step  was  about  to  be  taken  reached  him  at 
Glasgow  in  the  form  of  a  playbill  announcing  the  opening 
of  the  winter  season  at  old  Drury  on  Monday,  October 
i,  1827,  and  further  declaiming  that  "  Mr.  Charles  Kean, 
son  of  the  celebrated  tragedian,  Edmund  Kean,  would 
then  make  his  first  appearance  on  any  stage  as  Young 
Norval."  The  father  was  so  overcome  by  this  intelli- 

138 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

gence  as  to  be  quite  unable  to  play  for  a  time.  When  he 
recovered,  he  sent  for  his  secretary  and  instructed  him  to 
go  up  to  London  at  once,  to  secure  a  front  seat  in  the 
pit  for  the  night,  "  and  never  take  your  eyes  off  Charles 
while  he  is  on  the  stage.  Watch  every  movement,  look 
and  gesture,  scan  him  well  —  and  as  soon  as  the  per- 
formance is  over,  take  the  first  conveyance  you  can  find, 
and  come  back  here  and  let  me  know  the  result.  I  shall 
take  no  other  account  of  it  but  yours,  and  I  shall  sleep 
but  little  until  you  return." 

The  special  messenger  in  due  time  came  back  with  the 
report  that,  although  young  Kean  had  not  been  hissed 
at,  he  was  "  no  great  success." 

Charles  Kean,  himself,  thoroughly  understood  that 
he  had  not  shed  any  glory  on  the  illustrious  name  of  Kean 
by  this  first  performance  of  his,  and,  as  soon  as  he  could 
manage  it,  he  set  out  to  try  his  fortunes  and  enlarge 
his  stage  experience  in  the  New  World.  Thus  he  made 
his  first  bow  to  the  American  public  at  the  Park  Theatre, 
New  York,  September  i,  1830,  as  Richard  III,  and  for 
nearly  two  years  and  a  half  continued  to  play  over  here. 
But  he  had  returned  to  London,  as  has  been  said,  in 
time  to  appear  with  his  father  at  Covent  Garden  (March 
25>  I^33)j  tne  ^der  Kean  then  playing  Othello,  the 
younger  lago,  and  Miss  Ellen  Tree,  whom  Charles  later 
made  his  wife,  acting  the  part  of  Desdemona.  For  eight 
or  nine  years  after  his  father's  death,  Charles  Kean 
worked  hard  and  conscientiously  at  his  profession,  con- 
stantly gaining  in  power  and  popularity  in  his  own  coun- 
try as  well  as  in  America.  Four  times  in  all  he  was  over 

139 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

here  in  the  course  of  his  life,  and  always  he  was  much 
liked.  His  wife,  too,  was  popular  here  as  well  as  in 
London.  After  her  first  American  tour,  which  began  in 
December,  1836,  and  lasted  three  years,  she  carried 
home  twelve  thousand  pounds  in  cash.  It  was  she  who, 
as  Clari  in  Payne's  opera  of  the  same  name,  first  made 
"  Home  Sweet  Home  "  a  great  popular  success. 

Ellen  Tree's  own  "  sweet  home,"  after  her  marriage, 
was  in  the  house  on  Gerrard  Street,  Soho,  which  had 
formerly  belonged  to  Edmund  Burke,  and  here  she  and 
her  husband  gave  frequent  parties  that  were  attended 
by  many  persons  of  distinction.  The  admiration  Kean 
excited  among  the  ladies  of  fashion  was,  however,  a 
source  of  great  disquietude  to  Mrs.  Kean,  and  she  was 
wont,  during  her  frequent  fits  of  jealousy,  to  absent  herself 
from  home  —  go  into  the  country.  "  At  least  this  was 
her  idea,"  says  Lord  William  Pitt  Lennox,  who  pre- 
serves this  bit  of  gossip,  but  the  limit  of  her  journey 
was  Bayswater,  then  a  medley  of  suburban  cottages 
and  market-gardens,  long  since  obliterated  by  the  brick 
and  mortar  of  Tyburnia.  The  manager  of  the  theatre 
in  which  both  had  engagements  was  well  aware  of  their 
quarrels  and  separations,  and  on  one  occasion,  by  way 
of  remedy,  cast  both  of  them  for  the  two  principal  char- 
acters in  '  The  Jealous  Wife.'  They  played  the  parts 
with  spirit  and  for  that  time  were  reconciled."  These  two 
were  very  much  in  love  with  each  other  and  so  remained 
as  long  as  they  both  lived.  For,  though  Macready  once 
contemptuously  dubbed  Charles  Kean  "  the  son  of  his 
father,"  he  was  really  a  great  deal  more  than  that  as 

140 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

well  as  something  less.  In  moral  worth,  Charles  Kean 
was  blameless,  upright  and  honourable,  infinitely  his 
father's  superior.  And  as  manager  of  the  Princess's 
Theatre  in  Oxford  Street,  a  post  which  he  assumed  in 
1850,  he  did  the  stage  a  great  service  by  mounting 
Shakespeare  in  a  nearly  perfect  manner.  His  company 
here  was  a  very  strong  one,  too,  particularly  so  far  as 
pretty  women  was  concerned,  —  Ellen  Terry,  Agnes 
Robertson,  and  Carlotta  Leclerq  being  among  those 
who  in  their  youth  profited  by  Charles  Kean's  instruc- 
tion. 

Unhappily,  this  younger  Kean  had  a  bronchial  trouble 
of  long  standing  which  marred  his  pronunciation  and 
made  him  an  easy  prey  of  the  wits.  Punch,  dwelling 
upon  his  inherent  difficulties  with  his  m's  and  his  n's, 
once  paid  tribute  to  the  "  antiquarian  researches  by 
which  he  had  made  Shylock  a  vegetarian!  "  It  is  un- 
deniable that  Charles  Kean,  in  this  part,  again  and  again 
said: 

"  You  take  my  house  when  you  do  take  the  prop 
That  doth  sustain  my  house;  you  take  my  life 
When  you  do  take  the  beans  whereby  I  live." 


141 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  ENTERTAINING  OBSERVATIONS  OF  THE  FIRST  CHARLES 
MATHEWS 

CHARLES  MATHEWS,  SR.,  who  came  to  New  York  for 
the  first  time  in  1822,  was  frightened  nearly  out  of  his 
wits,  Dr.  John  W.  Francis  l  tells  us,  by  discovering  that 
he  had  arrived  just  as  the  city  was  in  the  grip  of  one  of 
its  periodic  attacks  of  yellow  fever.  There  had  been 
a  great  deal  of  joking  in  England  over  Mathews's  deter- 
mination to  see  what  an  American  trip  could  do  in  the 
way  of  recouping  his  recent  financial  losses,  and  the 
comedian's  friends  had  entertained  themselves  by  quo- 
ting to  him  Doctor  Johnson's  opinion  on  the  subject  of 
the  country  across  the  sea:  "  Is  not  America  worth  see- 
ing? "  "  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Johnson,  "  but  not  worth  going 
to  see."  None  the  less,  Mathews  decided  to  make  the 
trip,  and,  as  we  read  his  letters  home,  we  are  very  glad 
that  he  had  the  courage  of  his  desires.  No  more  lively 
descriptions  of  certain  phases  of  life  here  may  anywhere 
be  found.  From  Hoboken,  New  Jersey,  he  sent  back  his 
first  letter  to  his  wife  (on  September  6,  1822),  in  which 
he  announced  his  safe  arrival  "  after  a  most  delightful 
passage  of  thirty-five  days." 

1  In  his  "  Old  New  York." 
142 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

New  York  was  in  no  mood  for  him  just  then,  however, 
—  nor  he  for  it;  so  Baltimore  was  quickly  sought,  the 
visitor  being  kept  in  ignorance  that  that  place,  too,  was 
undergoing  the  scourge.  Here,  none  the  less,  Mathews 
made  his  debut  on  the  American  stage,  Monday,  Sep- 
tember 23,  1822,  the  vehicle  chosen  being  his  "  Trip 
to  Paris." 

His  success  was  immediate.  When  he  gave  his  song, 
"  London  now  is  out  of  Town,"  to  the  music  of  the 
American  national  air,  he  received  instant  proof  that  he 
had  "made  a  hit." 

"  They  roared  and  screeched,"  he  wrote  his  wife, 
"as  if  they  had  never  heard  anything  comical  before; 
and  I  don't  think  they  have  been  glutted  in  that  way. 
I  discovered  the  never-to-be-mistaken  token  of  pocket 
handkerchiefs  crammed  into  the  mouths  of  many  of 
the  pitt-ites.  I  had  only  to  hold  up  my  crooked  finger 
when  I  wanted  them  to  laugh,  and  they  obeyed  my  call. 
I  was  most  agreeably  surprised,  indeed,  at  finding  them 
an  audience  of  infinitely  more  intelligence  and  quick- 
ness than  I  had  expected.  Bartley  had  shrugged  his 
shoulders  at  the  idea  of  their  taking  the  jokes.  One  of 
the  London  papers  said  I  should  be  lost  here;  .  .  .  but 
the  neatest  and  best  points  were  never  better  appreciated, 
even  in  London;  and  I  am  quite  certain,  from  the 
effects,  that  the  French  language  is  generally  much 
more  understood  here  than  in  England." 

None  the  less,  there  were  a  good  many  people  in 
Baltimore  at  this  time  who  would  not  go  to  the  theatre, 
as  Mathews  soon  found  out.  Consequently,  it  was  ar- 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

ranged  that  when  he  made  his  return  trip  to  the  city, 
he  should  take  the  Assembly  Rooms;  "  for  there  are  per- 
sons who  will  not  go  into  a  theatre  but  would  not  object 
to  a  room,  I  am  told."  He  bore  away  a  very  large  sum 
for  those  days,  from  Baltimore.  "  My  benefit,"  he 
wrote  home,  "  produced  one  thousand  dollars  —  a 
greater  house  by  one  hundred  dollars  than  Cooke  or 
Kean  had.  This  has  satisfied  me  of  the  actual  enthu- 
siasm of  the  Americans  towards  me." 

Washington  was  the  next  city  visited,  "  where  the 
greatest  house  ever  known  before  was  $380.  I  had  $550 
and  crowds  went  away.  I  played  a  second  night  and, 
under  peculiar  disadvantages,  got  $350;  a  very  small 
theatre.  My  next  (letter)  will  give  you  an  account  of  a 
splash,  for  of  New  York  I  am  most  sanguine." 

It  was,  indeed,  a  "  splash!  "  Mathews's  manager, 
Price,  had  the  good  sense  to  see  that  New  York  must  be 
broken  gently  to  the  peculiar  humour  of  this  "  star," 
and  so  insisted  that  he  appear  first  in  "  the  regular 
drama."  Thus,  it  was  as  Goldfinch,  in  "  The  Road  to 
Ruin,"  that  England's  greatest  comedian  first  dawned 
upon  a  New  York  audience.  Let  us  follow  his  own 
sprightly  account  of  the  occasion. 

"  Nothing  could  be  more  brilliant  and  decisive  than 
my  success.  I  opened  to  the  greatest  stock  house  ever 
known,  —  much  greater  than  that  of  Cooke  or  Kean. 
Nearly  1800  dollars!  My  reception  was  more  than  rap- 
turous; I  never  recollect  anything  more  joyous  in  my 
life.  They  infused  me  with  fun ;  I  was  in  tip-top  spirits 
and  the  songs  were  hailed  with  shouts.  The  Tonson 

144 


A  "  FIRST  NIGHT  "  AT  THE  SECOND  PARK  THEATRE,  NEW  YORK,  IN  1822.    THE 

ELDER  CHARLES   MATHEWS   IS   SHOWN  ON  THE   STAGE 

From  a  water-color  drawing  made  by  John  Searle 

See  page  144 


w   £ 


5  u 

H     >» 


L: 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

[the  role  he  assumed  in  the  afterpiece]  was  equal  in 
effect  to  the  most  successful  of  my  former  personations; 
and  at  the  dropping  of  the  curtain,  huzzas  cheered  my 
efforts.  The  whole  tone  of  my  future  proceedings  will 
be  taken  from  this  night,  for  New  York  is  the  London 
of  America." 

An  actor's  benefit  was  then  the  test  of  his  popularity, 
and  that  Mathews  drew  heavily  when  that  occasion 
came  around  proved  him   unmistakably  a  success  - 
more  especially  since  the  night  was  a  very  unpropitious 
one.    To  his  wife  the  next  day  he  wrote : 

"  I  shall  always  think  last  night  the  greatest  compli- 
ment ever  paid  me.  The  torrents  of  rain  which  fell 
during  the  whole  day  (and  we  in  England  don't  know 
what  rain  is)  would  have  totally  destroyed  the  house  in 
any  town  in  which  I  have  ever  been.  I  had  to  wait  for 
a  hackney  coach  until  the  time  I  ought  to  have  been  on 
the  stage;  but  walking  was  out  of  the  question  as  noth- 
ing short  of  drowning  appeared  inevitable.  It  was 
thought  by  all  that  it  would  injure  the  house  very  materi- 
ally as  scarcely  any  private  carriages  are  kept  here. 
When  I  went  in,  to  my  great  surprise  as  well  as  delight, 
Price  said,  '  Well,  Sir,  here  they  are.  Your  house  is  full. 
This  is  the  greatest  compliment  ever  paid  to  an  actor 
in  New  York.  I  don't  believe  there  is  any  other  man  that 
would  have  had  such  a  house  as  this  on  such  a  night.' 
There  were  1800  dollars,  which  is  nearly  as  much  as  the 
house  will  hold.  The  rain  must  have  done  some  injury 
else  it  would  have  overflowed  instead  of  being  full;  and 
I  believe  that  is  all  the  difference.  No  enthusiasm  ever 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

was  greater.  ...  I  look  upon  the  remainder  of  my  work 
as  a  settled  point.  All  other  towns  will  take  their  tone 
from  this,  as  in  England  from  London ;  and  the  curiosity 
to  see  me  is  such  that  Cooper  and  Phillips,  the  only  stars 
excepting  Booth,  say  that  they  fail  because  the  people 
are  hoarding  up  their  dollars  to  see  me.  I  send  you  a 
copy  of  a  few  lines  in  the  newspaper  of  Wednesday. 
1  A  very  handsome  compliment  has  been  paid  to  Mathews 
such  as  cannot  soon  be  forgotten  by  him.  We  learn  that 
a  party  of  gentlemen  have  chartered  the  steam-boat, 
The  Fly,  to  bring  them  down  from  Albany  (two  hundred 
miles)  to  his  benefit  to-morrow  evening;  thus  making 
a  journey  for  one  evening.'  Another  unsought  puff 
which  has  caught  my  eye  is  this :  '  The  proprietors  of 
the  Brooklyn  boat  inform  the  public,  that  the  steam- 
vessels  Fulton  and  Active,  will  on  the  occasion  of  Mr. 
Mathews'  benefit,  start  from  Brooklyn  at  half -past 
five,  and  remain  to  carry  the  passengers  back  after  the 
play.'  These  boats  never  cross  the  ferry  after  five  on 
other  occasions.  Does  this  not  look  well?  " 

The  social  attentions  Mathews  received  were  like- 
wise very  gratifying  to  him.  In  London  he  had  fre- 
quently dined  informally  with  the  king  and  was,  of 
course,  sought  after  in  all  the  leading  professional  and 
artistic  circles.  Yet  he  informs  his  wife  that  "  in  point 
of  compliments  paid  to  an  actor  of  reputation  they  are 
here  far  beyond  our  own  country.  Letters  of  recommen- 
dation are  unnecessary.  Generals,  commodores  (admirals 
here),  judges,  barristers,  and  merchants,  have  left  their 
cards  for  me.  Judge  Irving,  a  brother  of  Washington 

146 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Irving,  called,  and  introduced  himself.  Had  I  time  and 
inclination  I  might  get  into  a  round  of  visiting  in  the 
very  highest  society,  which  is  much  more  desirable  and 
infinitely  more  polished  than  the  English  in  general  are 
willing  to  believe." 

One  attention,  bestowed  upon  him  in  New  York, 
which  Mathews  did  not  particularly  enjoy  —  though 
with  characteristic  humour  he  made  the  best  of  it 
both  personally  and  professionally  —  was  that  of  the 
Rev.  Paschal  N.  Strong,  a  preacher  of  the  Dutch  Re- 
formed Church,  who  in  a  sermon  called  "  The  Pestilence 
—  A  Punishment  For  Public  Sins  "  asserted  that  the 
coming  of  this  actor  was  the  cause  of  the  yellow  fever 
scourge!  By  a  most  amusing  anachronism,  as  Mathews 
pointed  out,  this  pious  person  made  the  drawing  of 
crowds  together  in  November  one  of  the  causes  of  a 
pestilence  which  began  in  July.  Let  us,  however,  read 
the  clergyman's  own  words.  No  better  commentary 
could  be  found  on  the  attitude  of  a  certain  section  of  New 
York  society  of  that  day  towards  the  theatre  and  all 
for  which  it  stood. 

"  Must  we  not  conclude  that  the  spirit  of  dissipation 
is  deeply  rooted  among  us,  when  we  find  at  this  very 
time  (when  our  inhabitants  are  called  more  solemnly 
than  ever  they  were  before  to  consider  their  ways  and 
humble  themselves  before  God) ,  the  theatre,  —  that 
school  of  Satan!  —  that  nursery  for  Hell!  is  overflowing 
night  after  night  with  our  citizens,  to  witness  the  mim- 
icries of  an  actor  whom  God  Almighty  has  sent  here  at 
this  very  time  in  his  wrath,  as  a  man  better  qualified 

147 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

by  all  accounts  than  any  other  in  the  world  to  dissipate 
every  serious  reflection,  and  harden  men  in  folly  and 
sin?  If  such  be  our  spirit  as  a  community  have  we  not 
deserved  God's  chastisements?  Can  we  not  find  in  this 
thirst  after  dissipation  a  fruitful  cause  of  our  late  calam- 
ity? " 

Of  course  a  wit  like  Mathews  could  not  let  this  kind 
of  thing  pass  by  unimproved!  The  reverend  gentleman 
promptly  received  a  pleasant  letter  announcing  that  the 
actor  intended  to  make  him  a  prominent  feature  of  his 
next  English  entertainment,  and  thanking  him  heartily 
for  all  that  he  had  done  for  this  visitor  in  the  way  of  free 
advertisement!  Here  is  the  letter: 

"New  York,  1823. 
"  SIR,  — 

"  Ingratitude  being  in  my  estimation  a  crime  most 
heinous  and  most  hateful,  I  cannot  quit  the  shores  of 
America  without  expressing  my  grateful  sense  of  services 
which  you  have  gratuitously  rendered. 

"  Other  professors  in  '  that  school  of  Satan,  that  nur- 
sery for  Hell!  '  as  you  most  appropriately  style  the 
theatre,  have  been  ex  necessitate,  content  to  have  their 
merits  promulgated  through  the  medium  of  the  public 
papers;  but  mine  you  have  graciously  vouchsafed  to 
blazon  from  the  pulpit. 

"  You  have,  as  appears  in  your  recently  published 
sermon,  declared  me  to  be  (what  humility  tells  me  I 
only  am  in  your  partial  and  prejudiced  estimation)  '  an 
actor  whom  God  Almighty  sent  here  as  a  man  better 
qualified  than  any  other  in  the  world  to  dissipate  every 
serious  reflection/ 

"  What  man!  what  woman!  what  child!  could  resist 

148 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  effects  of  such  a  description,  coming  from  such  a 
quarter?  particularly  as  you  at  the  same  time  assured 
the  laughter-loving  inhabitants  of  this  city  that  the 
punishment  incident  to  such  a  '  thirst  after  dissipation  ' 
had  been  already  inflicted  by  '  their  late  calamity/  the 
pestilence  *  voracious  in  its  thirst  of  prey! '  and  you 
might  have  added  thirsty  in  its  hunger  for  drink.  No 
wonder  that  the  theatre  has  since  been  crowded,  the 
manager  enriched,  and  the  most  sanguine  expectations 
of  him  whom  you  have,  perhaps  improperly,  elevated 
to  the  rank  of  the  avenging  angel,  so  beautifully  de- 
scribed by  Addison,  completely  realized!  For  each  and 
all  of  these  results  accept,  reverend  sir,  my  cordial  and 
grateful  thanks.  Nor  deem  me  too  avaricious  of  your 
favours  if  I  venture  to  solicit  more.  As  you  have  expressly 
averred,  in  the  sermon  before  me,  that  '  God  burnt  the 
theatre  of  New  York,  to  rebuke  the  devotees  of  pleasure 
there  resident/  permit  me,  your  humble  avenging  angel, 
to  inquire,  by  whom  and  for  what  purpose  the  cathedrals 
at  Rouen  and  Venice  were  recently  destroyed  by  fire, 
and  in  a  manner  which  more  especially  implicated  the 
hand  of  Providence?  But,  beware,  most  reverend  sir,  I 
conjure  you,  lest  your  doctrines  of  special  dispensations 
furnish  arguments  and  arms  to  the  scoffer  and  atheist. 

"  One  other  request  and  I  have  done.  You  appear 
to  be  too  well  acquainted  with  my  peculiarities  and  pro- 
pensities not  to  be  aware  that,  when  I  travel  abroad,  I 
am  always  anxious  to  collect  something  original  and 
funny  wherewith  to  entertain  my  friends  and  patrons 
'  AT  HOME.'  Now,  sir,  so  little  do  the  American  people, 
in  general,  differ  from  their  parent  stock,  whom  it  is  my 
object  to  amuse,  that  I  have  as  yet  scarcely  procured 
anything  in  which  these  qualities  are  united,  except 
your  aforesaid  sermon;  you  will,  therefore,  infinitely 
oblige  me  if  you  will,  on  Sunday  next,  preach  another  on 

149 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  subject  of  my  angelic  attributes,  in  which  case  you 
may  rely  on  my  being  a  most  attentive  auditor.  I  hope 
to  have  the  opportunity  of  studying  the  peculiarities 
of  your  style  and  action.  The  gracefulness  of  Christian 
charity,  humility  and  universal  benevolence,  which 
doubtless  beam  in  your  expressive  countenance,  will 
enable  me  to  produce  a  picture  of  prodigious  effect,  of 
which  all  who  know  the  original  will  acknowledge  the 
likeness  to  be  strong! 

"  I  have,  sir,  the  honour  to  be,  most  gratefully  your 
obliged,  angelic,  yellow-fever  producing  friend, 

"  C.  MATHEWS." 

Boston  was  the  next  city  which  Mathews  took  by 
storm.  He  made  the  journey  from  New  York  by  way 
of  Providence,  taking  the  water  route,  because  told  it 
would  be  "  most  pleasant  and  convenient."  It  proved 
to  be  neither,  the  time  consumed  being  from  nine  o'clock 
Thursday  morning  until  late  Monday  evening!  Thus 
he  had  to  disappoint  the  audience  which  awaited,  him  in 
Boston  on  Monday.  Mathews's  quaint  way  of  putting 
the  situation  is:  "I  could  not  possibly  arrive  until 
Tuesday  though  Phillips  had  cold  beef  ready  for  me  and 
waited  dinner  on  Sunday."  He  did  reach  his  destination 
in  time  to  enjoy  a  Christmas-day  dinner  in  real  English 
style,  however,  as  the  guest  of  the  British  Consul,  and 
to  his  great  delight,  his  Tuesday  audience  proved  most 
cordial. 

"  They  huzzaed  when  the  curtain  fell,"  he  gleefully 
wrote  Mrs.  Mathews,  "  and  the  theatre  was  crammed. 
No  money  is  taken  here  at  the  doors;  and,  as  in  Paris, 
tickets  are  issued  only  for  the  number  the  theatre  will 

150 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

hold.  On  great  occasions  (of  which  only  four  have 
occurred,  Cooke,  Phillips,  Kean,  and  myself)  people 
speculate  in  buying  up  tickets.  It  is  mobbing  work 
to  purchase  them.  So  that  the  elbowing  and  overflowing 
symptoms  are  displayed  of  a  morning  instead  of  an  eve- 
ning. People  who  dislike  this  ceremony  as  much  as  I, 
employ  porters,  brawny  fellows,  chairmen,  who  fre- 
quently remain  there  all  night.  When  they  have  pur- 
chased a  number  of  tickets  at  a  dollar  each,  they  will 
sell  them  to  the  highest  bidder;  and  four  or  six  dollars 
are  sometimes  given.  Last  night  is  a  proof  that  this 
theatre  is  not  great  enough  for  great  occasions,  as  a 
repeated  performance  refilled  the  house  and  fellows  took 
their  station  at  twelve  o'clock  on  Thursday  night,  and 
remained  till  the  box-door  opened  to-day.  Nothing  can 
be  more  rapturous  than  my  reception;  and  having  made 
my  hit  here,  the  thing  is  established  beyond  reach  of 
alarm  or  suspicion.  The  Bostonians  have  given  them- 
selves a  name  as  critics,  and  it  is  said  by  themselves  that 
this  is  more  like  an  English  town  than  any  in  America,  - 
more  literary  people,  better  polished;  and  larger  cities 
look  up  much  to  their  opinion.  Kean,  in  one  of  his 
speeches  from  the  stage,  called  it  a  literary  emporium.  I 
shall  stay  here  nearly  a  month  longer  and  then  back  to 
New  York.  I  can  hardly  hold  my  pen  as  I  write  —  it  is 
so  cold.  You  have  never  seen  ice,  nor  felt  frost.  My 
water-jug  was  frozen  this  morning.  The  ice  was  so 
thick  that  I  could  not  break  it  with  one  of  the  legs  of  a 
chair.  I  am,  thank  God,  so  well  that  I  bear  it  better  than 
the  natives  —  decidedly." 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

This  winter  of  1822-1823  must  have  been  one  of  the 
"  old-fashioned  "  ones,  towards  which  our  grandparents 
yearn.  For  Mathews  can  talk  of  little  else  than  the  cold 
and  the  sleighs,  which  were  a  novelty  to  him. 

"  Because  of  the  bells  on  the  horses,"  he  declares, 
"  this  town  is  one  continued  scene  of  what  they  call 
merriment.  But  as  neither  small  or  large  bells  can  convey 
such  a  sentiment  to  me,  I  have  no  other  idea  but  a 
disagreeable  ringing  in  my  ears.  If  the  poor  horses  are 
annoyed  as  I  am  I  pity  them."  Nor  could  they  inveigle 
the  comedian  to  join  in  the  sport,  his  invariable  reply 
being  that  sleighing  and  killing  were  synonymous  terms 
with  him. 

One  letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews  is  dated  "  Boston  alias 
Frozen  Regions,  January  12,  1823  "  and  begins:  "  If 
you  can  hold  a  pen,  dare  to  go  from  one  room  to  another, 
or  to  open  your  mouth  without  fear  of  your  words  being 
frozen  up  —  if  you  can  exert  any  of  your  energies,  then 
pity  me  as  I  envy  you  in  such  a  case.  This  is  the  most 
trying  climate  that  I  ever  imagined.  In  short,  all  you 
have  read  of  Russia  will  apply  to  it.  ...  I  can  only 
make  myself  happy  by  anticipating  a  thaw,  and  death 
to  their  mad  frolics  in  their  sleighs.  They  whisk  along 
at  the  rate  of  about  twelve  miles  an  hour,  and  in  open 
carriages  like  the  half  of  a  boat.  So  fond  are  they  of  the 
sport,  that  it  is  common  for  parties  to  go  out  at  night 
ten  or  fifteen  miles  to  adjacent  villages,  dance  there  and 
then  return  in  these  open  sleighs.  Funny  people!  " 

Mathews's  powers  of  imitation  were  so  extraordinary 
that  even  his  friends  enjoyed  seeing  themselves  as  he 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 


reproduced  them.  There  is  no  reflection  upon  his  cour- 
tesy, therefore,  to  be  made  as  a  result  of  the  following 
amusing  story  told  to  his  wife  in  one  of  his  letters  from 
America. 

"  There  is  a  physician  here  of  the  name  of  Chapman, 
to  whom  I  had  a  letter  from  Washington  Irving.  I 
saw  him  in  September  last  and  had  him  instantly,  and 
indulged  in  imitating  him.  When  I  went  through  in  Oc- 
tober I  gave  this  imitation  at  a  party  here  where  every- 
body knew  him.  The  thing  was  droll  and  a  gentleman 
present  not  only  laughed  then  but,  when  he  went  home, 
he  laughed  again  at  the  recollection  so  immoderately 
that  his  wife  really  thought  he  had  a  hysteric  fit.  In 
perfect  alarm  she  sent  the  servant  off  for  their  physician. 
He  was  from  home  and  the  servant,  thinking  his  master 
dying,  did  not  stop  till  he  found  a  doctor.  Just  as  the 
patient  was  recovering  from  the  effects  of  his  counter- 
feit doctor,  in  came  the  real  Dr.  Chapman;  and  when 
the  patient  heard  the  sound  of  his  voice,  he  was  off  again, 
and  was  actually  very  near  being  bled  while  in  his  second 
fit— A  fact!" 

One  of  Mathews's  best  witticisms  about  our  climate 
was  when— -he- declared  it  "fit  only  for  butterflies  in 
summer  and  for  wolves  and  bears  in  winter."  Alongside 
of  this  we  may  place  the  following  description  of  the 
circumstances  under  which  he  once  wrote  home,  while 
stopping  at  a  hotel  in  New  York:  "  I  am  writing  in  a 
tub  of  hot  water,  with  two  black  servants  attend- 
ing, each  in  a  vapour  bath,  with  their  arms  extended 
through  flannel  apertures,  wiping  my  nose  with  hot 

153 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

flannels,  to  prevent  the  breath  freezing.  By  the  time 
you  receive  this,  a  young  summer  (for  there  is  no  spring 
here)  will  compel  me  to  abandon  my  cloth-coat." 

One  extraordinary  incident  of  Mathews's  first  Ameri- 
can tour  was  his  performance  in  New  York,  on  a  wager, 
of  the  part  of  Othello.  Strange  to  say,  the  attempt  was 
received  with  great  applause  and  had  to  be  several  times 
repeated.  One  of  the  critics  of  the  time  wrote:  "  It 
will  hardly  be  credited  that  Mr.  Mathews  succeeded 
completely  in  this  arduous  character.  We  could  not 
conceive  that  an  actor,  whose  forte  has  been  till  now  con- 
sidered all  comic,  could  so  far  divest  himself  of  his  hu- 
mourous peculiarities,  as  to  convey  to  his  audience  a 
very  chaste,  correct,  pleasing,  and  even  affecting  picture 
of  the  unhappy  Moor."  Mathews  possessed,  however, 
too  nice  a  sense  of  his  own  peculiar  powers  to  allow  him- 
self to  be  tempted  often  out  of  his  own  special  line  of 
work.  And  though  he  was  persuaded  to  do  his  Othello 
for  a  single  night  in  Liverpool,  after  his  return  home,  he 
did  not  repeat  the  experiment.  The  critics  said  that  he 
was  "  brilliant  in  some  passages,  chaste  and  judicious 
in  all."  But  they  added  that  they  preferred  him  in  one 
of  his  "  At  Home's."  And,  since  Mathews  preferred 
himself  that  way,  we  do  not  find  him  again  venturing 
into  tragedy  on  the  stage. 

Something  approaching  tragedy  for  him  intruded  it- 
self, however,  into  his  personal  life,  about  this  time,  in 
that  his  financial  embarrassments  were  so  great  that  he 
felt  obliged  to  place  on  public  exhibition  his  theatrical 
portrait  gallery,  which  had  been  his  pet  hobby  for  years. 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

This  collection  contained  four  hundred  pictures,  which, 
while  not  all  of  the  first  rank  artistically,  formed  a  unique 
illustration  of  the  most  brilliant  period  of  England's 
histrionic  history. 

With  the  hope  of  still  further  retrieving  his  losses, 
Mathews  made  a  second  journey  to  America  in  1834. 
This  time  his  wife  accompanied  him;  so  that  it  is 
through  her  letters  to  their  son  that  we  now  learn  of 
his  adventures  —  and  follow  the  painful  story  of  a  very 
sick  man,  endeavouring  to  be  as  gay  and  sprightly,  when 
before  his  audiences,  as  if  he  had  never  known  an  hour  of 
suffering.  On  arriving  in  New  York,  he  was  distressed 
to  learn  that  a  strong  public  sentiment  had  developed 
against  him  since  his  last  visit,  owing,  he  was  informed, 
to  the  fact  that  he  had  "  ridiculed  America  "  in  one  of 
his  sketches.  He  met  the  accusation  by  giving  the  cen- 
sured sketch  entire  and  compelling  his  auditors  to  testify 
at  its  close  that  they  could  find  nothing  to  object  to 
in  it. 

Again  he  encountered  an  exceptionally  cold  winter, 
and  this  time  his  sufferings  were  real,  not  pretended, 
as  on  the  former  visit. 

In  Boston,  where  the  comedian  enjoyed  a  very  good 
season,  he  and  his  wife  made  their  headquarters  at  the 
Tremont  House  and  received  a  great  deal  of  social  at- 
tention, one  new  acquaintance  whom  Mathews  especially 
enjoyed  being  Doctor  Wainwright.  As  the  customs  of 
the  country  did  not  then  "  allow  a  churchman  to  visit 
the  theatre,  Mr.  Mathews  took  great  pleasure,"  his  wife 
writes,  "  in  entertaining  the  Doctor  in  private  whenever 

!$$ 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

they  met."  The  last  church  service  poor  Mathews  ever 
attended  was  when  he  went  to  hear  Doctor  Wainwright 
preach,  just  before  leaving  Boston.  "  The  doctor's 
sermon  turned  on  a  very  affecting  subject,"  records  Mrs. 
Mathews,  "  on  the  probability  that  a  reunion  with  those 
we  most  loved  on  earth  would  form  a  portion  of  the  joys 
of  the  blessed  hereafter.  My  husband  wept  continuously 
throughout  the  sermon,  although  he  seemed  unusually 
tranquil  and  happy  the  rest  of  the  day."  In  New  York 
Mathews  appeared  in  public  for  the  very  last  time.  The 
bill  for  the  occasion  is  interesting. 


FAREWELL  APPEARANCE  OF  MR.  MATHEWS 
AT  NEW  YORK 

This  evening,  February  nth,  1835,  will  be  performed 
the  comedy  of 

MARRIED  LIFE 

Mr.  Samuel  Coddle Mr.  Mathews 

Mr.  Lionel  Lynx Mr.  Mason 

Mrs.  Lionel  Lynx Mrs.  Chapman 

Mrs.  Samuel  Coddle Mrs.  Wheatley 

In  the  course  of  the  evening,  Mr.  Mathews  will  sing  the 
Comic  Songs  of 

The  Humours  of  a  Country  Fair,  and  Street  Melodies 
(a  medley),  including,  Welsh,  French,  Scotch,  Irish, 
African,  Italian,  Swiss  and  English  airs  with  embellish- 
ments. 

156 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 
After  which,  an  entertainment  by  Mr.  Mathews,  called 

THE  LONE  HOUSE 

Andrew  Steward,  Butler  and  Leader Mr.  Mathews 

Bechamel,  a  French  valet Mr.  Mathews 

Frizwaffer,  a  German  cook Mr.  Mathews 

Cutbush,  a  gardener Mr.  Mathews 

Captain  Grapnell,  a  naval  officer Mr.  Mathews 

Doors  open  at  a  quarter  before  six  o'clock;  performance 
commences  at  a  quarter  before  seven.  « 

From  this  evening  Mathews  grew  continually  worse,  so 
that  his  journey  back  to  England  was  one  long  chapter 
of  horrors.  He  had  literally  come  home  to  die,  and  he 
passed  away  June  28,  1835  —  on  his  fifty-ninth  birth- 
day. Thus  went  out  a  talent  so  great  and  so  unique 
that  Macaulay  said  of  it:  "  Mathews  was  certainly 
the  greatest  actor  that  I  ever  saw  —  I  can  hardly  believe 
Garrick  to  have  had  more  of  the  general  mimetic  genius 
than  he.  ...  I  laughed  my  sides  sore  whenever  I  saw 
him."  Perhaps  the  best  summing  up  of  this  genial 
comedian's  peculiar  gift  may  be  found,  however,  in  the 
Sunday  edition  of  the  London  Times,  following  his  de- 
cease. 

"  As  a  companion  he  was  delightful,  as  a  friend  sin- 
cere, as  a  husband  and  father  exemplary,  and,  as  an 
actor,  he  had  no  competitor,  and  will,  we  fear,  never 
have  a  successor.  .  .  .  He  was  on  the  stage  what  Ho- 
garth was  on  the  canvas  —  a  moral  satirist :  he  did  not 
imitate,  he  conceived  and  created  characters,  each  one 
of  which  was  recognized  as  a  specimen  of  a  class.  Noth- 

157 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

ing  could  exceed  the  correctness  of  his  ear;  he  spoke  all 
the  dialects  of  Ireland,  Scotland  and  Wales  with  a  fidel- 
ity perfectly  miraculous.  He  could  discriminate  be- 
tween the  pronunciation  of  the  different  writings  of 
Yorkshire,  and  speak  French  with  the  Parisian  accent, 
-  the  patois  of  the  South  or  the  guttural  tone  of  the 
Flemish.  His  powers  in  this  way  had  no  limit.  His 
knowledge  of  human  character  was  no  less  remarkable. 
Though  his  performances  professed  to  be  representations 
of  manners  and  peculiarities,  they  really  abounded  in 
the  fine  analysations  of  character.  Mathews  did  not 
occupy  the  highest  place  in  the  drama;  but  he  was 
indisputably,  and  by  the  united  suffrage  of  France, 
England  and  America,  the  first  in  his  peculiar  walk.  .  .  . 
For  seventeen  years  he,  by  his  single  exertions,  delighted 
all  England  —  '  alone  he  did  it! '  " 


158 


CHAPTER  VI 

TWO  GREAT  ENGLISH  TRAGEDIANS  WHOM  WE  WELCOMED 

GLADLY 

ABOUT  the  time  that  the  elder  Charles  Mathews  first 
came  to  make  us  merry,  William  Augustus  Conway, 
another  English  actor,  also  visited  our  shores.  When 
Conway  was  making  preparations  to  depart,  the  Lon- 
don press  commented  as  follows:  "  On  Friday  Conway 
performed  the  part  of  Macbeth.  He  is  about,  we 
understand,  to  migrate  to  America,  where  we  hope  he 
will  receive  better  encouragement  than  he  has  obtained 
here.  He  has  certainly  been  hardly  dealt  with  by  the 
critics;  they  have  taken  a  pleasure  in  exposing  and 
heightening  all  his  defects  and  in  passing  over  the 
many  traces  of  genius  and  judgment  which  are  to  be 
found  in  all  his  performances.  Conway  is  not  equal  to 
the  weighty  part  of  Macbeth,  but  with  the  exception  of 
Kemble,  Kean  and  Young,  he  is  as  good  as  any  other 
performer  of  the  part.  Conway  wants  study  and  dis- 
cipline and  a  better  carriage  of  his  person.  He  is  not 
wanting  in  natural  feeling  or  in  the  leading  requisites 
of  his  art." 

Yet  Conway 's  "  carriage  of  his  person  "  had  not  been 

159 


The.  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

so  inelegant  that  the  "  matinee  girls  "  of  his  day  failed 
in  admiration  of  him.  A  susceptible  "  duke's  daughter  " 
was  generally  known  to  be  quite  beside  herself  for  love 
of  this  Apollo  (he  was  six  feet,  two  inches  in  height),  and 
he  had  won,  also,  the  ardent  love  of  Mrs.  Piozzi,  — 
who  had  been  the  Mrs.  Thrale  of  Johnson's  circle.  This 
lady  was  seventy-three  at  the  time  of  her  infatuation 
for  the  actor  and  he  was  young  enough  to  have  been  her 
grandson.  But  she  is  said  to  have  proposed  marriage 
to  him,  none  the  less,  and  repeatedly,  in  letters  which 
may  still  be  read,  she  tried  to  draw  him  to  her  side.  In 
September,  1819,  she  wrote: 

"  Three  Sundays  have  now  elapsed  since  James 
brought  me  dearest  Mr.  Conway's  promise  to  write  me 
the  very  next,  and,  were  it  not  for  the  newspaper  which 
came  on  the  24th  August  —  sending  me  to  rest  comfort- 
able, though  sick  enough  and  under  the  influence  of 
laudanum  —  I  should  relapse  into  my  former  stage  of 
agonizing  apprehension  on  your  account;  but  that 
little  darling  autograph  round  the  paper  was  written 
so  steady,  and  so  completely  in  the  old  way,  whenever 
I  look  at  it  my  spirits  revive,  and  hope  (true  pulse  of 
life)  ceases  to  intermit,  for  a  while  at  least,  and  bids 
me  be  assured  we  shall  soon  meet  again.  I  really  was 
very  ill  three  or  four  days;  but  the  jury  of  matrons,  who 
sat  on  my  complaints,  acquitted  the  apricots  which  I 
accused,  and  said  they  (all  but  two)  proved  an  alibi. 
Some  of  the  servants,  who  were  ill  too,  found  out  we 
had,  in  Bessy's  absence,  got  some  mildewed  tea  that 
lay  in  a  damp  closet  at  the  last  lodging.  We  are  now 
removed  to  a  palace,  a  Weston  palazzino  where  we  pro- 
pose receiving  Mr.  Conway." 

1 60 


WILLIAM    AUGUSTUS    CONWAY 
See  page  I$Q 


THOMAS    ABTHORPE   COOPER 
See  page  123 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

There  are  many  other  letters  in  similar  strain; 
for  this  extraordinary  old  lady  continued  her  amorous 
correspondence  with  the  handsome  actor  up  to  the  very 
month  of  her  death  in  the  spring  of  1821. 

"  We  ourselves  heard  the  late  Charles  Mathews  say," 
asseverates  a  writer  in  the  New  Monthly  Magazine  for 
1 86 1  (very  likely  William  Harrison  Ainsworth,  the 
editor  of  this  publication)  "  —  and  no  one  who  knew 
Mathews  will  question  his  veracity  —  that  Conway  had 
himself  shown  him  Mrs.  Piozzi's  offer  of  marriage  and 
asked  his  (Mathews')  opinion  and  advice.  Mathews 
told  him  at  once  that  he  could  not  honourably  take  ad- 
vantage of  it.  '  That/  said  Conway,  '  is  what  I  myself 
felt;  but  in  a  matter  so  important  to  one  so  poor  as  I 
am,  I  also  felt  that  my  own  decision  should  be  confirmed 
by  the  opinion  of  a  friend.  I  now  know  what  to  do.' 
This,  we  repeat,  we  heard  from  Mathews  himself,  at 
the  time  the  circumstance  occurred,  and  we  therefore 
believe  it." 

Conway's  conduct  towards  Mrs.  Piozzi  appears  to 
have  been  honourable  in  the  extreme,  however.  Though 
he  was  in  pecuniary  straits  at  the  time  of  her  death,  he 
returned  to  her  estate  a  check  for  £500  which  the  aged 
lady  had  sent  him  a  few  days  before  she  passed  away, 
and  among  his  effects,  sold  in  New  York  after  his  own 
sad  end,  was  a  copy  of  Young's  "  Night  Thoughts,"  on 
which  was  written  "  Presented  to  me  by  my  dearly  at- 
tached friend,  the  celebrated  Mrs.  Piozzi." 

That  Conway  was  grossly  ill-used  by  many  of  the 
English  critics,  there  can  be  no  doubt.  Hazlitt  wrote  very 

161 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

cruelly  of  him  in  the  1818  edition  of  his  "  View  of  the 
English  Stage,"  declaring,  among  other  things,  that  his 
"  motion  was  as  unwieldly  as  that  of  a  young  elephant." 
This  criticism  ends  with  the  significant  words:  "  Query, 
why  does  he  not  marry?  "  In  justice  to  Hazlitt  it  should 
be  said  that  this  passage  was  omitted  from  the  later 
editions  of  his  book,  and  that  he  made  a  public  apology 
for  having  written  it. 

The  career  of  this  much-abused  actor  was  full  of 
colour  and  movement.  Born  in  London  (in  1789), 
he  was  sent  as  a  boy  to  the  Barbadoes,  where  he  grew 
up  to  young  manhood  under  the  guidance  of  a  clergy- 
man-tutor. He  returned  to  England  at  the  age  of 
eighteen,  witnessed  a  play  for  the  first  time  —  at  Bath, 
where  he  afterwards  was"  cultivated  so  eagerly  by  Mrs. 
Piozzi  —  and  was  immediately  seized  with  an  ardent 
desire  to  go  on  the  stage.  Macready  offered  him  an 
opening  in  Dublin,  where  he  played  with  the  beautiful 
Miss  O'Neil  —  for  whom  he  conceived  a  violent  but 
unavailing  passion.  Through  Charles  Mathews  he  was 
given  an  opportunity  to  appear  at  Covent  Garden,  and 
he  there  played  several  parts  of  importance  between 
1813  and  1816.  Then  he  disappeared  from  the  London 
stage  for  several  years,  though  he  may  be  found  in 
the  bill  of  the  Haymarket  during  the  summer  of  1821. 
After  that  he  withdrew  definitely  from  the  view  of 
English  play-goers  as  a  result  of  the  malignant  attacks 
to  which  reference  has  already  been  made;  and,  at  the 
close  of  1823,  he  started  for  America. 

His  debut  in  New  York,  on  January  12,  1824,  in  the 

162 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

part  of  Hamlet,  yielded  him  sixteen  hundred  dollars,  and 
the  critics  of  the  New  World,  unlike  those  of  London, 
accorded  his  performance  enthusiastic  praise.  So  pro- 
nounced, indeed,  was  his  success,  that  Thomas  A.  Cooper, 
then  a  great  favourite  of  the  New  Yorkers,  made  an 
arrangement  to  play  with  him,  and  for  a  number  of 
performances  the  Park  Theatre  was  crowded  nightly  as 
a  result  of  this  partnership. 

Then,  quite  suddenly,  Conway  withdrew  to  Newport, 
Rhode  Island,  for  the  purpose,  it  was  said,  of  preparing 
himself  to  take  holy  orders.  The  news  that  Macready 
was  about  to  come  to  New  York  had  proved  too  much 
for  him.  For  nothing  could  shake  his  "  fixed  idea  "  that 
Macready  was  visiting  the  country  for  the  express  purpose 
of  crushing  him.  Moreover,  the  American  papers,  not 
to  be  outdone  in  cruelty  by  those  of  London,  about  this 
time  began  to  impugn  the  motives  behind  his  religious 
zeal  and  to  question,  salaciously,  the  relations  which  had 
existed  between  him  and  Mrs.  Piozzi.  As  a  result  of 
all  this,  Conway  became  morbidly  dejected.  In  the 
course  of  a  voyage  from  New  York  to  Charleston,  in 
the  winter  of  1828,  it  was  noted  how  melancholy  he  was 
and  that,  although  the  weather  was  very  raw,  he  wore 
only  summer  clothing.  On  January  24,  when  the  pas- 
sengers were  going  down  to  dinner,  he  told  the  captain 
"  he  should  never  want  dinner  more,"  and  presently 
flung  himself  overboard.  His  body  was  not  recovered. 
The  love  letters  of  Mrs.  Piozzi,  found  among  his  effects, 
were  sold  in  New  York  and  afterwards  published  in 
London.  They  pitifully  demonstrate  that  Dr.  Johnson 

163 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

was   quite    right  when  he  warned   his  friend  that  she 
should  not  give  too  free  vent  to  her  emotions.1 

Junius  Brutus  Booth,  father  of  the  great  Edwin,  — 
and  of  the  unhappy  maniac  who  shot  Abraham  Lincoln 
under  a  mistaken  sense  that  he  was  thus  serving  the 
highest  good  of  his  country,  —  we  had  made  welcome 
just  a  few  years  before;  and  well  we  might,  for  the  elder 
Booth  was  one  of  the  most  interesting  characters  stage 
history  in  America  has  ever  known. 

Born  at  St.  Pancras,  London,  May  i,  1796,  the  son 
of  Richard  Booth,  a  cultivated  lawyer,  he  was  destined 
by  his  father  for  a  brilliant  legal  career.  It  chanced, 
however,  that  this  father  was  a  strong  believer  in  per- 
sonal liberty,  as  was  instanced  by  an  attempt  that  he 
made  to  serve  in  our  Revolutionary  War  and  by  the 
fact  that  all  visitors  to  his  house  were  obliged  to  render 
obeisance  to  a  portrait  of  George  Washington  which 
hung  on  the  wall  of  his  drawing-room.  So,  when  he 
learned  that  his  son  did  not  care  to  follow  the  profession 
he  had  chosen  for  him  —  preferring  instead  to  go  upon 
the  stage  —  he  did  not  long  attempt  to  thwart  the  lad's 
preference.  Young  Booth's  first  appearance  was  at 
Deptford,  in  December,  1813,  after  which,  for  several 
months,  he  played  on  the  Continent  as  a  member  of  a 
strolling  English  company. 

1  Leslie  Stephens  doubts  the  authenticity  of  these  letters,  but  other 
commentators  declare  them  quite  in  Mrs.  Piozzi's  style.  The  fact  is 
that  beauty  was  one  of  this  lively  lady's  tastes;  and  Con  way  was  ex- 
ceedingly good-looking.  Moreover,  though  she  was  well  along  in  years, 
her  spirits  were  still  young.  On  the  evening  of  her  eightieth  birthday 
she  gave  a  concert  ball  and  supper  at  Bath,  to  nearly  seven  hundred 
people,  she  herself  leading  off  the  first  dance! 

164 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Yet  so  potent  is  ambition,  when  linked  with  great 
talent,  that  early  in  1817  he  was  acting  Richard  III  at 
Covent  Garden  and  making  such  a  profound  impression 
that  he  immediately  came  to  be  regarded  as  the  rival 
of  the  great  Kean!  The  "  Keanites  "  and  the  "  Booth- 
ites  "  struggled  together  in  London  for  some  time,  each 
claque  endeavouring  to  maintain  the  supremacy  of  its 
chosen  idol.  Meanwhile  Kean  and  Booth  played 
counter-parts  together  and  profited  greatly  by  the  ex- 
citement which  their  adherents  had  fanned  into  flame. 

Four  years  elapsed  between  this  London  season  and 
Booth's  sailing  for  America,  in  the  spring  of  1821. 
They  were  years  of  continuously  brilliant  success;  it 
was  by  no  means  because  he  could  not  find  appreciative 
audiences  in  England  and  on  the  Continent  that  Junius 
Brutus  Booth  came  to  the  New  World. 

The  city  in  which  he  first  acted  over  here  was  Rich- 
mond, and  the  part  he  first  assumed  that  of  his  favourite, 
Richard  III.  His  triumph  was  immediate  and  tremen- 
dous, the  critics  pronouncing  him  the  equal  if  not  the 
superior  of  both  Cooke  and  Kean. 

An  engagement  at  the  Park  Theatre  in  New  York  was 
promptly  offered  him,  and  there  he  opened,  October  5, 
1821,  as  Richard  III.  Here  there  was  the  wildest  enthu- 
siasm over  his  performance,  one  of  the  reviews  predict- 
ing that  "  with  the  aid  of  close  study  and  practice,  this 
astonishing  young  man  [he  was  still  under  twenty-five] 
would  become  the  first  actor  of  the  age." 

At  Booth's  first  benefit  in  New  York,  the  house  was 
crammed,  and  he  had  twelve  hundred  dollars  to  bear 

165 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

away  with  him.  This  appears  to  have  been  the  nucleus 
of  the  sum  with  which  he  purchased  his  farm,  the  Bel 
Air,  in  Baltimore,  to  which  he  became  greatly  attached 
and  with  which  so  many  stories  about  him  are  connected. 

The  spring  of  1822  found  him  playing  in  Boston  for 
the  first  time,  after  which  he  made  a  round  of  all  the 
leading  cities  of  the  country.  Two  visits  to  England, 
engagements  at  Rotterdam,  Amsterdam,  and  Brussels, 
periods  of  service  at  New  Orleans,  Baltimore,  and  New 
York  —  interspersed  with  various  professional  tours 
and  with  weeks,  too,  of  forced  retirement  —  now  fol- 
lowed. 

There  is,  however,  no  intention  to  sketch  Booth's 
career  here,  either  in  sequence  or  in  detail;  the  space  at 
our  disposal  can  be  much  more  profitably  employed  by 
quoting,  from  a  very  rare  brochure,1  which  has  fallen 
into  my  hands,  some  of  the  anecdotes  told  of  this  ex- 
traordinary man  and  of  his  compelling  genius. 

Once  he  was  the  guest  at  the  "  Hermitage,"  near 
Nashville,  Tennessee,  of  General  Jackson  and  his  wife, 
and  entertained  them  by  reading  aloud  portions  of  the 
Scriptures  and  of  "  Paradise  Lost."  For  this  actor  knew 
and  greatly  loved  literature.  To  a  visitor  who  was 
condoling  with  him  on  the  loneliness  of  his  farm  he  re- 
plied: "  I  am  never  without  company.  I  am  surrounded 
by  congenial  spirits.  I  converse  and  hold  counsel  with 
the  great  and  good  of  all  ages.  Look  —  there  are  Shelley, 
and  Byron,  and  Wordsworth;  here  are  '  rare  Ben  Jon- 
son,'  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  and  Shakespeare  and 

1  "  The  Actor,  or  a  Peep  Behind  the  Curtain:  "  New  York,  1846. 

166 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Milton;  with  them  time  never  wearies,  and  the  eloquent 
teachings  that  fall  from  their  leaves  are  counsellors  and 
guides.  These  are  my  companions/'  concluded  Booth, 
triumphantly  pointing  to  his  library  and  to  his  old  arm- 
chair, "  and  I  am  never  less  alone,  than  when  alone." 

Booth's  devotion  to  this  farm  and  to  the  agricultural 
occupations  with  which  he  busied  himself  there  became 
almost  a  monomania.  He  not  only  superintended  the 
management  of  the  place  but  "  drove  his  team  afield," 
like  any  other  practical  farmer.  A  novel  sight  it  must 
have  been  to  see  the  great  tragedian  disposing  of  his 
turnips  and  cabbages  in  market  —  and  not  infrequently 
giving  them  away  when  no  purchaser  could  be  found. 
One  Saturday  evening  when  he  was  due  to  play  Richard 
in  Baltimore,  neither  threats  nor  solicitation  could  in- 
duce him  to  go  to  the  theatre  until  he  had  made  a  satis- 
factory disposition  of  his  vegetables.  The  consequence 
was  that,  in  order  to  secure  his  actor,  the  manager  had 
first  to  hunt  up  a  purchaser  for  the  wares  of  the  amateur 
farmer. 

One  of  Booth's  eccentricities,  if  so  we  may  regard  it, 
was  a  firm  belief  that  it  was  a  positive  sin  to  destroy  and 
even  more  wicked  to  consume  anything  that  had  life. 
For  a  period  of  three  years  he  lived  entirely  upon  vege- 
table food,  even  oysters  being,  in  the  quaint  language  of 
his  chronicler,  "  sacred  from  his  appetite."  At  this  time 
occurred  the  incident  of  the  passenger  pigeons,  a  long 
and  graphic  account  of  which  may  be  found  in  the  At- 
lantic Monthly  files  for  1861.  A  young  clergyman  in  a 
Western  city  received,  one  evening,  a  note  from  Booth, 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

who  was  then  playing  in  the  town,  asking  that  a  place  of 
interment  be  given  in  the  churchyard  to  his  "  friends." 
The  minister,  mistaking  the  word  "friends"  for  "friend," 
and  thinking  the  actor  wished  to  bury  some  dear  comrade, 
called  on  Booth  at  his  hotel,  to  offer  help  and  sympathy. 

"  Was  the  death  of  your  friend  sudden?  "  he  asked 
sympathetically. 

"  Very,"  was  Booth's  brief  reply. 

"  Was  he  a  relative?  " 

"  Distant,"  came  the  non-committal  answer.  And 
then  the  actor,  as  if  desiring  to  change  the  subject,  asked 
his  caller  if  he  would  like  to  hear  him  give  "  The  Ancient 
Mariner."  In  delight  the  clergyman  said  that  he  would, 
indeed;  and  soon  Booth  was  reading  that  weird  poem 
as  only  he  knew  how  to  read.  When  he  had  ended,  he 
began  to  argue  about  the  sin  of  eating  animal  food,  turn- 
ing over  the  pages  of  the  Bible  to  find  texts  to  support 
his  opinions.  Then  he  invited  the  minister  into  the  next 
room  to  "  look  at  the  remains." 

What  met  their  eyes  was  no  human  corpse,  however, 
but  a  number  of  dead  passenger  pigeons  spread  out  on  a 
large  sheet.  These  Booth  took  up  tenderly  in  his  arms, 
explaining,  as  he  did  so,  that  they  had  been  shot  in  mere 
wantonness.  The  young  divine  was  much  impressed  by 
the  words  of  his  host,  but,  inasmuch  as  he  could  not  ac- 
cede to  the  request  that  these  dead  pigeons  be  accorded 
full  burial  rites,  the  two  soon  parted,  Booth  now  looking 
very  black  and  malevolent.  The  cloud  which  often  ob- 
scured his  mind  had  again  descended. 

Once,  in  the  very  high  tide  of  his  early  successes,  this 

168 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

erratic  genius  wished  to  retire  from  the  stage  and  accept 
the  position  of  a  lighthouse  keeper,  with  a  salary  of  $300 
a  year!  On  another  occasion,  after  a  drunken  bout  with 
his  friend,  Tom  Flynn,  he  thought  himself  to  be  Othello, 
and  hurled  his  companion  to  the  floor  with  such  force 
that  the  other,  knowing  his  opponent  to  be  beside  him- 
self, felt  forced  to  defend  his  life  by  hitting  Booth  over  the 
face  with  a  poker  —  a  punishment  that  broke  the  actor's 
nose  and  so  spoiled  at  once  his  beauty  and  his  voice. 

Edwin  Booth  has  written  very  delicately  and  beauti- 
fully of  his  father  in  an  endeavour  to  explain  away 
"  much  that  was  imputed  to  vices  of  the  blood."  Great 
minds  to  madness  closely  are  allied,  he  pleads.  "  Thus 
Hamlet's  mind,  at  the  very  edge  of  frenzy,  seeks  its  relief 
in  ribaldry.  For  like  reasons  would  my  father  open,  so 
to  speak,  the  safety-valve  of  levity  in  some  of  his  most 
impassioned  moments.  At  the  very  instant  of  intense 
emotion,  when  the  spectators  were  enthralled  by  his 
magnetic  influence,  the  tragedian's  overwrought  brain 
would  take  refuge  from  its  own  threatening  storm  be- 
neath the  jester's  hood,  and,  while  turned  from  the 
audience,  he  would  whisper  some  silliness  or  '  make  a 
face.'  .  .  .  My  close  acquaintance  with  so  fantastic  a 
temperament  as  was  my  father's  so  accustomed  me  to 
that  in  him  which  appeared  strange  to  others  that  much 
of  Hamlet's  '  mystery  '  seems  to  me  no  more  than  idio- 
syncrasy. It  likewise  taught  me  charity  for  those  whose 
evil  or  imperfect  genius  sways  them  to  the  mood  of  what 
it  likes  or  loathes." 

Junius  Brutus  Booth  never  spoke  of  things  theatrical 

169 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

when  at  home  and  was  decidedly  opposed  to  having 
any  of  his  children  go  on  the  stage.  Not  that  he  consid- 
ered this  calling  unworthy,  but  that  he  was  only  too 
conscious  of  the  enormous  drain  it  makes  upon  the  nerv- 
ous system.  For,  more  than  most  actors,  he  consciously 
threw  himself,  before  the  play  as  well  as  during  the 
performance,  into  its  peculiar  atmosphere.  Thus,  if 
"  Othello  "  was  billed  for  the  evening,  he  would  wear  a 
crescent  pin  on  his  breast  all  that  day.  When  Shylock 
was  to  be  his  part,  he  was  a  Jew  in  anticipation  and  would 
converse  by  the  hour,  if  in  Baltimore,  with  a  learned 
Israelite  among  his  acquaintance  there,  quoting  portions 
of  the  Talmud  the  while.  For  Booth  knew  Hebrew  well 
enough  to  be  able  to  play  Shylock  in  that  language, 
Arabic  sufficiently  to  talk  with  travelling  jugglers  in 
their  own  tongue,  and  was  sufficiently  a  master  of 
French  stage  traditions  to  render  acceptably  the  Orestes 
in  Racine's  "  Andromaque  "  before  a  French  audience 
at  New  Orleans. 

Even  George  Frederick  Cooke,  whose  Richard  III  is 
said  to  have  excelled  all  others,  was  not  better  in  the 
death  scene  of  this  play  than  was  Booth,  if  we  may  trust 
the  critics.  "His  eyes,  naturally  large  and  piercing," 
wrote  H.  D.  Stone,  "  appeared  to  greatly  increase  in 
size  and  fairly  to  gleam  with  fire,  while  large  drops  of 
perspiration  oozed  from  his  forehead  and  coursed  down 
his  cheeks." 

The  most  interesting  criticism  that  I  have  found  on 
Booth's  acting  is  from  the  pen  of  Walt  Whitman,1  whom 

1  See  Boston  Herald,  August  16,  1885. 
170 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

most  of  us  know  much  better  as  a  poet  than  as  a  com- 
mentator on  the  drama: 

"  I  happened  to  see  him  [Booth]  in  one  of  the  most 
marvellous  pieces  of  acting  ever  known.  I  can  (from 
my  good  seat  in  the  pit  pretty  well  front)  see  again 
Booth's  quiet  entrance  from  the  side  as,  with  head  bent, 
he  slowly  walks  down  the  stage  to  the  footlights  with 
that  peculiar  and  abstracted  gesture,  musingly  kicking 
his  sword  which  he  holds  off  from  him  by  its  sash. 
Though  fifty  years  have  passed  since  then,  I  can  hear 
the  clank  and  feel  the  perfect  hush  of  perhaps  three 
thousand  people  waiting.  (I  never  saw  an  actor  who 
could  make  more  of  the  said  hush  or  wait,  and  hold  the 
audience  in  an  indescribable,  half-delicious,  half-irri- 
tating suspense.)  .  .  .  Especially  was  the  dream  scene 
very  impressive.  A  shudder  went  through  every  nerv- 
ous system  in  the  audience;  it  certainly  did  through 
mine. 

"  Without  question  Booth  was  royal  heir  and  legiti- 
mate representative  of  the  Garrick-Kemble-Siddons 
dramatic  traditions;  but  he  vitalized  and  gave  an  un- 
nameable  race  to  those  traditions  with  his  own  electric 
idiosyncrasy.  The  words,  fire,  energy,  abandon  found 
in  him  unprecedented  meanings.  I  never  heard  a  speaker 
or  actor  who  could  give  such  a  sting  to  hauteur  or  the 
taunt.  I  never  heard  from  any  other  the  charm  of 
unswervingly  perfect  vocalization  without  trenching 
at  all  on  mere  melody,  the  province  of  music." 

Booth's  last  appearance  on  the  stage  was  on  Novem- 
ber 19,  1852,  at  the  St.  Charles  Theatre,  New  Orleans. 
The  Creoles  had  always  loved  him  and  borne  patiently 
with  his  lapses;  on  this  occasion  he  made  them  very 
happy  with  a  brilliant  performance.  Then  he  set  out  for 

171 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Cincinnati  on  a  Mississippi  steamer  and  died  while  on 
his  way,  with  no  member  of  his  dearly-loved  family  to 
close  his  brilliant  eyes.  When  Rufus  Choate  heard  that 
he  had  passed  away,  he  exclaimed,  in  deep  sorrow, 
"  Then  there  are  no  more  actors!  " 

Yet  at  that  very  hour,  in  a  distant  Western  city,  the 
parts  that  Junius  Brutus  Booth  had  played  with  such 
astonishing  power  were  being  done  —  and  well  done, 
too  —  by  the  son  whom  he  had  named  Edwin,  after 
America's  greatest  native  tragedian,  and  who  was  des- 
tined to  become  the  most  glorious  Hamlet  the  world 
has  ever  seen. 


172 


CHAPTER  VII 

EDWIN  FORREST  AS  ACTOR  AND   MAN 


EDWIN  FORREST,  the  first  American  tragedian  native 
to  our  soil,  belongs  peculiarly  to  the  nineteenth  century. 
For  the  century  was  only  six  years  old  when  he  was  born; 
and  he  did  not  die  until  December  12,  1872.  The  his- 
tory of  his  life  is  thus  almost  synchronous  with  the 
history  of  the  American  stage  during  this  period.  Be- 
cause of  which,  as  well  as  because  Forrest  was  an  in- 
tensely interesting  personality,  his  career  of  necessity 
looms  large  in  any  work  dealing  with  the  American 
drama.  Moreover,  Forrest  was  intensely  American  in 
his  sympathies,  his  prejudices,  his  training,  and  his  en- 
thusiasms. He  may,  also,  be  said  to  have  been  typically 
American  in  the  way  in  which  he  carved  out  a  new  field 
of  activity  for  himself. 

Forrest  stands  forth  as  the  very  first  American  star 
who  shone  with  transcendent  brilliancy.  For  James 
FennelTahd  Thomas  Abthorpe  Cooper,  both  of  whom 
had  "  starred  "  before  him,  were  not  native  Americans, 
though  they  are  usually  so  regarded.  Nor  did  they 
possess  powers  in  any  way  comparable  with  his. 

John  Bernard  has  amiably  characterized  Fennell,  in 
his  "  Retrospections  of  America,"  as  "  one  of  the  most 
extraordinary  specimens  of  a  class  it  had  been  my  fate 

173 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

so  frequently  to  meet,  and  my  humble  endeavor  to  im- 
mortalize —  the  eccentric.  Eccentricity  is  a  sort  of 
orderly  disorder;  or,  if  that  sounds  too  Irish,  a  peculiar 
arrangement  by  which  the  greatest  contradictions  are 
placed  in  juxtaposition,  as  though  kitchen  utensils  were 
ranged  round  a  drawing-room.  Most  dazzling  schemes 
for  acquiring  wealth  and  fame  were,  in  Fennell's  case, 
the  drawing-room  furniture;  while  the  kitchen  imple- 
ments were  those  dramatic  talents  by  which  he  cut  his 
loaf  and  cooked  his  dinner.  He  was  a  projector  of  the 
most  genuine  i  South  Sea  Bubble  '  species.  .  .  .  That 
arrant  jade,  Fancy,  was  ever  luring  him  into  debt  and 
disgrace,  while  his  sober  spouse,  Judgment,  would  lead 
him  back  to  the  stage  and  a  subsistence." 

Frequently,  however,  Fennell's  blithesome  resource- 
fulness served  him  in  very  good  stead,  even  while  pur- 
suing his  workaday  life  on  the  stage.  As  for  instance, 
on  that  occasion  when  he  was  playing  Macbeth  in  a 
summer  company  whose  property  man  had  become  so 
enamoured  of  Shakespeare  that  he  frequently  forgot 
the  duties  of  his  office.  On  this  particular  evening  the 
"  blood  "  was  missing;  but  a  well-directed  blow,  aimed 
by  Fennell  at  the  property  man's  nose,  effectively  reme- 
died this  deficiency,  and  Macbeth's  hands  and  dagger 
were  as  gory,  when  he  returned  from  killing  Duncan,  as 
even  the  youngest  pit-ite  could  desire. 

Fennell  was  born  in  London  in  1766,  received  a  good 
education,  and  studied  for  the  bar.  In  1787  he  resolved 
to  be  an  actor,  and  made  his  debut  at  the  Edinburgh 
Theatre.  At  about  this  time  he  began,  too,  to  write  for 
the  press,  issuing  a  magazine  called  the  Theatrical  Guard- 

174 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

ian.  After  spending  some  time  in  Paris,  Fennell  came 
to  the  United  States  and  in  1793  made  his  first  appear- 
ance in  Philadelphia  with  immediate  success.  He  be- 
came the  idol  of  the  town,  and  but  for  his  extravagant 
habits  and  erratic  disposition,  might  have  accumulated 
a  great  deal  of  money.  At  this  period  he  was  a  rival 
of  Thomas  Abthorpe  Cooper,  and  in  1808  the  two 
favourites  played  a  joint  engagement  at  the  leading 
theatres  of  several  cities.  Once  Fennell  alone  played 
thirteen  weeks  in  Philadelphia  to  receipts  which  ag- 
gregated thirteen  thousand  dollars. ,  This  is  said  to  have 
been  "  the  greatest  instance  of  patronage  ever  given  to 
the  American  drama." 

Yet  he  was  soon  attempting  to  earn  a  modest  liveli- 
hood by  conducting  an  academy  in  Charles  town,  Massa- 
chusetts. And  then,  having  by  good  luck  come  into  a 
considerable  amount  of  money,  he  established  some 
salt  works  near  New  London,  Connecticut.  This  led  to 
his  financial  ruin.  He  died  in  Philadelphia  on  June  14, 
1816,  in  extreme  poverty. 

When  his  fortunes  were  at  their  lowest  ebb,  Fennell 
wrote  his  "  Apology,"  in  which  may  be  found  many 
picturesque  bits  about  the  actor-life  of  the  time,  though 
the  book  as  a  whole  is  extremely  tedious.  We  here  learn, 
for  instance,  that  Fennell  once  played  the  Moor  of  Ven- 
ice at  Edinburgh  dressed  in  "  a  coat,  waistcoat  and 
lower  garment  of  white  cloth  cut  in  the  old-fashioned 
style;  the  coat  and  waistcoat  loaded,  or  rather  orna- 
mented with  broad  silver  lace;  to  which  was  superadded 
a  black  wig  with  long  hair,  and  to  which  was  suspended 

175 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

a  ramillies  of  about  three  feet  in  length.  This,  with  the 
addition  of  a  pair  of  white  silk  stockings  and  dancing 
pumps,  made  up  the  equipment." 

Cooper's  starring  experience  dates  from  1803.  He 
had  observed  that  Fennell  received  in  six  or  eight  nights 
a  larger  remuneration  than  was  paid  to  him  for  three 
months  of  regular  service,  and  that,  too,  for  work  which 
appeared  to  be  far  less  laborious  than  the  drudgery 
of  a  stock  actor.  So  he  determined  to  make  the  big 
adventure. 

Born  in  England  in  1776,  the  son  of  a  physician  who 
left  him  fatherless  at  the  age  of  eleven,  Cooper  was  be- 
friended by  William  Godwin,  a  distant  relative,  and  was 
thus  brought  early  into  intimate  contact  with  the  girl 
who  became  Mrs.  Shelley.  At  sixteen  he  tried  to  go  on 
the  stage,  applying  for  "  any  kind  of  a  post  "  to  Stephen 
Kemble,  who  gave  him  a  chance.  He  was  promptly 
hissed  at  Edinburgh,  but  persisted  nevertheless,  and 
soon  displayed  so  much  promise  that  in  1796  he  re- 
ceived an  offer  from  Wignell,  then  manager  of  the 
Philadelphia  Theatre. 

The  distinguished  Mrs.  Merry  and  her  husband,  John 
Bernard,  and  William  Warren  were  among  young 
Cooper's  fellow-passengers  in  the  trip  across  the  At- 
lantic. He  arrived  in  New  York,  October  18,  1796, 
played  a  preliminary  season  at  Baltimore,  and  then 
made  his  debut  at  the  Chestnut  Street  Theatre,  Phila- 
delphia (December  9,  1796)  in  the  character  of  Mac- 
beth. On  February  28,  1798,  he  first  appeared  as  Ham- 
let at  the  recently  completed  Park  Theatre,  in  New 

176' 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

York,  with  which  his  subsequent  fortunes  were  a  good 
deal  identified.  The  difference  between  the  "  then  " 
and  the  "  now  "  in  the  matter  of  salaries  will  be  seen  when 
it  is  said  that  Cooper  at  this  time  received  only  $25  a 
week  for  playing  leads;  in  1799  he  began  to  draw  $32, 
and  by  1801  he  was  receiving  $38,  though  all  the  while 
a  great  favourite  with  box,  pit,  and  gallery.  Mrs.  Merry 
drew  $100  a  week  for  playing  parts  opposite  to  him. 
Cooper  thought  he  could  do  better  than  this  and  pro- 
ceeded to  prove  it.  In  1803  he  went  to  London,  and 
on  June  10  of  that  year  played  Othello  at  Drury  Lane, 
to  the  lago  of  George  Frederick  Cooke  and  the  Cassio 
of  Charles  Kemble. 

His  reputation  thus  enlarged,  he  returned  to  New 
York  where,  playing  three  times  a  week  at  the  Park, 
he  averaged  $750  nightly.  When  it  is  realized  that  the 
city's  entire  population  at  this  time  was  not  over  seventy- 
five  thousand,  it  will  be  seen  that  Cooper  was  indeed 
a  great  success  as  an  actor.  He  was  a  capable 
manager,  also.  In  1808  he  became  associated  with 
Stephen  Price,  a  well-known  man  of  fashion  in  New 
York,  who  afterwards  became  the  lessee  of  the  Drury 
Lane,  London,  and  together  they  brought  out  many 
successes. 

In  1815  he  left  Price  to  be  sole  manager  of  the  Park 
and  began  his  career  of  travelling  star.  For  years  he 
made  his  journeys  in  a  large  gig,  expressly  constructed 
for  the  uncertain  roads  of  that  era,  which  he  drove  tan- 
dem. Thus,  in  his  prime,  he  played  no  less  than  one 
hundred  and  seventy-six  leading  characters  in  sixty- 

177 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

four  different  theatres,  driving  himself,  the  while,  some 
twenty  thousand  miles. 

A  very  picturesque  career,  this,  but  of  course  not 
typically  American  —  as  was  Forrest's. 

Edwin  Forrest  started  as  a  poor  lad  with  no  position 
opinfluences  which  could  account  in  any  way  for  his 
exceedingly  remarkable  and  very  early  success;  and  he 
fought  his  way  up  the  ladder,  rung  by  rung,  as  if  he  were 
saying  to  himself  every  hour  of  the  day:  "There's 
plenty  of  room  at  the  top."  That  his  father  was  Scotch 
and  his  mother  German  only  served  to  make  his  Ameri- 
canism more  pronounced. 

The  story  of  this  boy's  early  life  reminds  one,  in  its 
simplicity  and  its  self-conscious  idealism,  of  Benjamin 
Franklin's  life  as  set  down  in  the  matchless  "  Auto- 
biography." For  here  again  there  was  a  frugal  father,  a 
devout,  God-fearing  mother,  and  several  other  children 
besides  a  youngest  son,  who  would  get  on.  Because  this 
son  gave  more  striking  signs  of  talent  than  any  of  his 
fellow  fledglings  in  the  crowded  home  nest,  the  parents 
were  ambitious  to  make  a  parson  out  of  him.  At  first 
his  natural  tendencies  encouraged  this  idea,  for  after 
attending  service  in  the  old  Episcopal  church,  he  would 
hurry  home,  make  a  pulpit  of  a  stuffed  semicircular 
chair  with  a  pillow  placed  on  the  top  of  its  back  for  a 
cushion,  mount  into  it,  and  preach  from  memory  to  his 
admiring  sisters,  who  formed  the  "  congregation,"  long 
passages  from  the  sermon  which  had  lodged  themselves 
in  his  retentive  memory.  But  —  and  this  detail  would 
have  been  a  very  significant  one  to  a  mother  trained,  as 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

many  modern  mothers  are,  to  note  the  implications  of 
a  youngster's  tastes  in  play  —  the  costume  was  a  very 
important  accessory  to  the  preaching  of  this  parson. 
He  would  never  open  his  mouth  until  he  had  spectacles 
across  his  nose  and  a  pair  of  tongs  hung  around  his  neck 
to  represent  the  stole  worn  by  the  divine  he  was  en- 
acting. 

The  premature  death  of  the  boy's  father  necessitated 
early  self-support  on  the  part  of  the  young  Thespian, 
however,  and  he  was  successively  a  printer's  devil,  an 
errand  boy  in  a  cooper-shop,  and  an  under-clerk  in  a 
ship-chandlery  of  his  native  Philadelphia.  But  his  chief 
amusement  continued  to  be  "  playing  theatre,"  and  his 
one  diversion  later  was  passing  enchanted  evenings  in 
the  Old  Southwark  where,  while  his  love  of  the  play  was 
satisfied  by  witnessing  the  "  acted  drama,"  his  patriotic 
passion  was  fed  by  gazing  at  the  box  midway  in  the 
first  tier,  which  was  known  as  the  Washington  box  from 
the  fact  that  it  had  often  been  occupied  by  the  President 
and  his  family  during  the  days  when  Philadelphia  was 
the  nation's  capital. 

It  was  in  this  theatre,  then  under  the  management  of 
Charles  Porter,  that  Forrest,  as  a  lad  of  eleven,  made  his 
first  appearance  on  any  stage.  The  part  assigned  him 
was  that  of  a  girl,  and,  boy-like,  he  devoted  great  care 
to  the  make-up  of  his  upper  person,  stuffing  out  his  dress, 
adjusting  his  ringlets,  and  fastening  very  securely  upon 
his  head  the  turban  his  sister  had  made  for  the  occa- 
sion. But  his  huge  boy's  boots  were  quite  forgotten, 
and  when  they  showed  forth  under  his  short  petticoats, 

179 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

he  was  hissed  in  no  uncertain  fashion.  The  manager 
said  he  had  disgraced  the  theatre,  and  no  amount  of 
coaxing  would  secure  him  another  chance.  So  Forrest 
characteristically  took  matters  into  his  own  hands,  got 
himself  up  as  a  harlequin,  dashed  before  the  footlights 
while  the  manager  was  busy  running  down  the  cur- 
tain, and  delivered  himself  of  some  verses  which  con- 
tained a  facetious  reference  to  his  late  ungainly  heels 
and,  by  dint  of  agile  hand-springs  and  flip-flaps, 
wrung  from  the  astonished  audience  burst  on  burst  of 
applause. 

As  a  reward  for  this  exploit,  he  was  now  given  a  chance 
to  show  what  he  really  had  in  him,  and  on  November  17, 
1820,  he  made  his  first  appearance  at  the  Walnut  Street 
Theatre  in  the  character  of  Young  Norval.  Though  he 
was  only  fourteen  at  the  time,  he  acquitted  himself  so 
well  that  Williamjluane,  then  one  of  the  ablest  and 

~_    •«••!  — 1±^  \ 

most  experienced  editors  in  the  country,  wrote  an  ap- 
preciative notice  of  his  work,  pointing  out  that  the 
"  sentiment  of  the  character  had  obtained  such  full 
possession  ofthe  youth  as  to  take  away  every  consid- 
er atJofToF  an  audience  or  a  drama,  and_to_give7  as  it 
were,  the  natural  speaking  of  the  shepherd  boy,  suddenly 
revealed  by  instinct  to  be  the  son  of  Douglas."  The 
lad's  selfrpossessipn,  hpfliiHfnl  YWfri  q-"H  fflrej"!  articu- 
lation were  also  mentioned  with  praise.  For  this  lad 
had  not  been  wasting  his  scant  leisure  hours,  and  the 
results  of  his  study  and  elocution  practice  showed  in  his 
performance.  His  biographer  tells  an  interesting  story 
to  show  how  young  Edwin  carefully  followed  up  every 

180 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

suggestion  looking  to  advancement  in  his  chosen  pro- 
fession. 

One  evening,  as  he  was  standing  in  front  of  one  of  the 
Philadelphia  theatres,  his  attention  was  fixed  on  the 
two  mythological  figures  inscribed  Thalia  and  Mel- 
pomene which  stood  in  niches  on  either  sMe.  "  Who 
are  Thajlea  and  Melpomeen?  "  he  inquired  of  an  elder 
comrade.  "  Oh,  I  don't  know;  a  couple  of  Grecian 
queens,  I  guess,"  was  the  reply.  But  a  gentleman,  over- 
hearing, stepped  forward  and  explained  that  the  ladies 
were  respectively  the  Muse  of  Comedy  and  the  Muse  of 
Tragedy  and  added  that  at  any  bookstore  might  be 
had  a  copy  of  Walker's  Classical  Pronouncing  Dic- 
tionary, to  which  such  questions  could  be  referred 
with  the  certainty  of  a  correct  answer.  Edwin  bought 
the  volume  at  once  and  profited  by  it,  too.  Profited 
so  much  that,  when  the  theatre  was  torn  down,  some 
years  later,  he  was  able  to  buy  the  two  statues  with 
the  intention  of  having  them  set  up  in  his  own  private 
theatre. 

Naturally,  a  lad  thus  ambitious  of  stage  success  at- 
tained it.  After  his  successful  debut,  he  followed  up 
every  possible  opening  and  suggestion  until,  at  the  age 
of  sixteen,  he  secured  an  engagement  with  Collins  and 
Jones  to  play  leading  juvenile  parts  in  their  theatres 
in  Pittsburgh,  Cincinnati,  and  Lexington.  The  salary 
was  eight  dollars  a  week,  and  the  places  in  which  they 
played  were  so  wretched  that  in  Pittsburgh  the  audiences 
were  forced  to  shelter  themselves  under  umbrellas 
from  the  leaks  of  the  roof,  as  Forrest  sustained  the  part 

181 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

of  Young  Norval.  When  the  company  had  closed  its 
season  at  Lexington,  early  in  1823,  they  all  set  off  on  a 
cross-country  "  trek  "  for  Cincinnati,  the  women  packed 
away  in  covered  wagons  with  the  theatrical  parapher- 
nalia, the  men  on  horseback.  The  journey  occupied 
the  better  part  of  two  weeks,  for  it  was  not  until  March 
6,  1823,  that  they  opened  in  the  old  Columbia  Street 
Theatre  of  Cincinnati  in  "  The  Soldier's  Daughter," 
Forrest,  who  lacked  three  days  of  being  seventeen,  as- 
suming the  part  of  Malf ort.  At  this  time  he  was  so  poor 
that  when  his  dog,  by  way  of  morning  diversion,  gnawed 
into  shreds  one  of  his  only  pair  of  boots,  he  had  to  get 
around  the  dilemma  by  pretending  to  have  a  sore  foot, 
tlius  making  it  possible  for  him  to  appear  in  public 
wearing  a  shabby  old  slipper. 

The  impression  made  by  the  youth's  character  upon 
all  who  met  him  at  this  time  may  be  understood  from 
the  fact  that  an  excellent  boarding-place  was  secured 
for  him  in  Cincinnati  through  the  personal  intervention 
of  General  Harrison,  who  was  subsequently  President 
of  the  United  States.  The  General  feared  that  if  young 
Forrest  boarded  with  the  other  players  he  would  form 
bad  habits,  and  he  wished  to  guard  him  from  this,  as  he 
considered  him  a  young  man  of  extraordinary  ability, 
destined  to  excel  in  his  profession.  Forrest  was  then 
a  very  beautiful  youth,  with  deep  brown  eyes,  a  com- 
plexion of  marble  clearness,  and  a  graceful  though  sin- 
ewy form. 

Forrest's  first  real  opportunity  of  any  importance 
came  when  James  H.  Caldwell,  the  New  Orleans  man- 

182 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

ager,  offered  him  (in  1824)  an  engagement  at  eighteen 
dollars  a  week  as  an  actor  in  his  stock  company.  Here 
many  experiences  of  varying  value  were  his.  For  the 
most  voluptuous,  passionate,  and  reckless  social  life  of 
any  city  in  the  United  States  was  that  of  New  Orleans 
at  this  time.  And  this  handsome  young  actor,  whom 
everybody  welcomed  gladly,  was  impressionable  and 
eager  to  drink  deep  of  every  cup  which  should  contribute 
to  his  understanding  of  life.  Caldwell  at  nrsHntroduced 
his  protege  to  all  his  friends~and  gave  Him  good  parts; 
then,  jrnjwmg  fealous  of  "friar; "lie  forced  liinr,-^wiio  was 
tingling  with  ymithj  to  play  continually  the  roles  of  old 
men.  Very_  wisely,  Forrest,  instead  of  resenting  this 
openly  ^jnade  it  his  business  to  study  <£e~pecullarities" 
of  age  in  feature,  gaitT  and  voice. 
during  a  vacation  period,  he  lived  for  a  time  with  the 
Indians,  and  made  that  study  of  the  red  man's  charac- 
ter which  was  afterwards  to  prove  of  such  inestimable 
value  to  him.  Another  opportunity  which  came  to" 
Forrest,  while  at  New  Orleans,  was  that  afforded  by 
the  chance  to  play  with  the  celebrated  and  ill-starred 
Conway.  "  Othello  "  was  one  of  the  pieces  put  on,  and 
as  Conway  depicted  the  noble  Moor  in  all  his  jealousy, 
love,  madness,  vengeance,  desperation,  and  remorse, 
Forrest  watched,  lynx-eyed,  and  lost  not  one  detail. 
He  was  wont  to  date  from  the  witnessing  of  these  per- 
formances one  of  the  epochs  in  the  development  of  his 
own  dramatic  power.  Also  epochal  was  the  attraction 
he  now  felt  for  Miss  Jane  Placide,  first  actress  in  the 
New  Orleans  company,  and  then  a  very  sweet  and 

183 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

beautiful  girl  of  twenty.  It  was  because  of  a  quarrel 
that  he  had  with  Caldwell  concerning  this  lady  that 
Forrest  left  New  Orleans,  having  first  challenged  and 
"  posted  "  his  former  manager. 

There  was  no  difficulty  now  about  securing  an  en- 
gagement, however,  and  we  find  him,  in  the  fall  of  1825, 
member  of  a  stock  company  at  the  Albany  Theatre, 
ready  to  meet  and  profit  by  the  second  great  experience 
of  his  professional  life.  This  was  acting  lago  to  the 
Othello  of  Edmund  Kean.  Kean  was  making  his  second 
visit  to  America,  and  he  was  now  much  broken  by  his 
bad  habits  from  his  best  estate.  Still  his  genius  lingered 
fascinatingly,  and  he  delivered  his  climacteric  points  with 
all  his  wonted  power.  Forrest  knew  this,  and  he  was 
most  anxious  to  "  play  up  "  to  the  great  man.  Accord- 
ingly he  called  on  him  at  his  hotel,  on  the  forenoon  of 
the  day  they  were  to  act  together,  for  the  purpose  of 
securing  any  directions  the  master  might  have  to  give 
him.  He  was  graciously  received,  but  the  only  directions 
bestowed  by  the  star  were  to  keep  in  front  of  him  and 
not  wander  in  attention  any  of  the  time  that  lago  and 
Othello  were  on  the  stage  together. 

That  night,  however,  the  young  American  actor  gave 
a  new  idea  to  the  great  Kean.  For  having  studied  his 
part  for  a  considerable  period,  Forrest  had  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  lago,  instead  of  being  the  sullen  and 
sombre  villain  he  was  usually  represented,  to  have  de- 
ceived Othello,  must  needs  have  been  very  fascinating, 
seemingly  sincere,  and  full  of  surface  good  humour.  So 
in  delivering  the  important  lines: 

184 


Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  Look  to  your  wife;  observe  her  well  with  Cassio; 
Wear  your  eye  thus,  not  jealous,  —  nor  secure," 

Forrest  was  frank  and  hail-fellow-well-met  in  all  save 
the  last  two  words.  But  there,  suddenly,  as  if  his  deep 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil  had,  without  his  volition, 
thrust  itself,  as  it  were,  to  the  surface,  he  almost  hissed 
the  words  "  nor  secure,"  thus  conveying  a  horrible 
suggestion  of  malevolence  which  electrified  the  house 
and  caused  Kean  to  say  to  him  excitedly,  after  the  per- 
formance: "  In  the  name  of  God,  boy,  where  did  you 
get  that?  "  Forrest,  trying  hard  to  conceal  his  triumph, 
replied  calmly:  "  It  is  something  of  my  own."  "Well," 
said  the  great  man  with  conviction,  "  everybody  who 
speaks  the  part  hereafter  must  do  it  just  so."  Nor  was 
this  idle  praise.  At  a  public  dinner  given  to  Kean  in 
Philadelphia,  soon  after  this,  he  said  that  he  had  met  one 
actor  in  this  country,  a  young  man  named  Edwin  For- 
rest, who  gave  proofs  of  a  decided  genius  for  his  profes- 
sion, and  who  would,  as  he  believed,  rise  to  great  emi- 
nence. 

Already  that  coveted  opportunity,  a  New  York  en- 
gagement, was  assured  to  Forrest  by  his  good  work  in 
Albany.  For  Prosper  M.  Wetmore,  one  of  the  proprie- 
tors of  the  nearly  completed  Bowery  Theatre,  having 
heard  of  his  acting,  'had  journeyed  up  to  Albany  to  see 
the  work  for  himself,  and  was  so  much  pleased  that  an 
offer  to  play  leading  parts  during  the  first  season,  at  a 
salary  of  twenty-eight  dollars  a  week,  was  promptly 
made  to  the  young  man.  Meanwhile,  however,  there 

185 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

was  the  summer  to  be  got  through  without  money;  for 
the  Albany  venture  had  not  been  a  financial  success, 
and  Forrest,  among  others,  was  dismissed  unpaid.  Yet 
he  managed  somehow  to  transport  himself  to  New 
York.  While  staying  there,  utterly  without  funds,  it 
chanced  that,  by  doing  a  kindness  to  an  actor  with  a 
large  family,  —  playing  Othello  for  his  benefit  at  the 
Park,  —  he  convinced  even  his  future  manager  that  he 
was  a  wonder.  That  individual  graciously  lent  him 
money  to  pay  his  debts  and  take  his  wardrobe  out  of 
pawn.  Whereupon,  Forrest  got  a  chance  to  play  in  the 
South  during  the  summer,  and  so  was  able  to  carry  four 
hundred  dollars  home  to  his  mother,  at  the  end  of  what 
had  promised  to  be  a  wholly  unprofitable  holiday  period. 
When  the  Bowery  finally  opened,  in  the  fall  of  1826, 
Forrest  as  Othello  at  once  made  such  an  impression  that 
the  stockholders  sent  him  their  personal  congratulations 
and  raised  his  salary  from  twenty-eight  to  forty  dollars 
a  week.  From  this  success  may  be  traced  the  'first 
absolute  hold  made  by  Forrest  upon  the  attention  of 
cultivated  auditors  and  intelligent  critics;  for  the 
Bowery,  it  must  be  recalled,  was  then  a  very  different 
theatre  from  what  it  afterwards  became,  when  the 
newsboys  took  forcible  possession  of  it,  and  the  fire- 
laddies  in  its  neighbourhood  were  the  arbiters  of  public 
taste.  The  following  year  he  was  re-engaged  there  for 
eighty  nights  at  a  salary  of  two  hundred  dollars  a  night. 
At  least  sixteen  thousand  dollars  assured,  that  season, 
for  this  actor  who  had  just  passed  his  twenty-first 
birthday! 

186 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Early  in  February,  1827,  Forrest  played  for  the  first 
time  in  Boston  at  the  old  Federal  Street  Theatre.  The 
character  he  assumed  was  Damon;  Pythias  was  in  the 
audience.  For  James  Oakes  "  of  the  old  Salt  Store,  49 
Long  Wharf/'  who  was  destined  to  be  Forrest's  most 
intimate  friend  throughout  his  whole  life,  was  one  of 
those  "  in  front  "  that  night.  After  the  performance, 
he  went  around  to  the  actor's  dressing-room  and  took 
the  first  steps  in  the  relation  which  was  to  mean  so  much 
to  them  both.  Oakes  was  at  this  time  a  little  less  than 
twenty  and  had  a  passion  for  the  drama  equal  to  For- 
rest's own.  He  at  once  constituted  himself  Forrest's 
unsalaried  press-agent,  and  it  is  not  too  much  to  say 
that  a  great  deal  of  the  extraordinary  reputation  this 
actor  soon  built  up  was  due  to  the  unwearied  nursing 
of  his  growing  fame  to  which  Oakes  devoted  himself  as 
a  diversion  and  labour  of  love. 

In  the  course  of  a  rather  large  reading  of  biography,  I 
have  never  encountered  any  relation  between  men  so 
tender  and  so  beautiful  as  this  friendship  of  forty  years. 
They  wrote  to  each  other  constantly,  Forrest  and  Oakes; 
they  were  together  for  holidays  whenever  possible,  and 
they  told  each  other  everything.  "  From  top  to  bot- 
tom, inside  and  out  and  all  through,  I  am,  dear  Forrest, 
forever  yours,"  Oakes  writes.  And  Forrest  replies:  "  I 
have  never  met  a  man  whose  heart  beat  with  a  nobler 
humanity  than  yours,  I  am  proud  to  be  your  friend 
and  have  you  for  mine.  God  bless  you  and  keep  us  al- 
ways worthy  of  one  another."  Oakes  once  said  that 
the  friendship  between  him  and  Forrest  was  more  like 

187 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

devotion  of  a  man  to  the  woman  he  loves  than  the  re- 
lation usually  subsisting  between  men.  And  this  is 
borne  out  by  Alger's  1  sketch.  "  Every  summer  for  the 
last  thirty  years  of  his  life  Forrest  made  it  a  rule,"  he 
says,  "  to  spend  a  week  or  a  fortnight  with  Oakes,  when 
they  either  loitered  about  lovely  Boston  or  went  into 
the  country  or  to  the  seaside  and  gave  themselves  up  to 
leisurely  enjoyment.  .  .  .  These  visits  were  regularly 
repaid.  Whenever  they  met,  after  a  long  separation,  as 
soon  as  they  were  alone  together,  they  threw  their  arms 
around  each  other  in  fond  embrace  with  mutual  kisses, 
after  the  manner  of  lovers  in  our  land,  or  of  friends  in 
more  tropical  and  demonstrative  climes.  Streets  in 
land  owned  by  Forrest  were  frequently  named  after 
Oakes,  the  room  opposite  his  own  in  one  of  his  houses 
was  called  Oakes's  Chamber,  and  in  his  Broad  Street 
mansion  in  Philadelphia  there  was  a  portrait  of  Oakes 
in  the  entry,  a  portrait  of  Oakes  in  the  dining-room,  a 
portrait  of  Oakes  in  the  picture  gallery,  a  portrait  of 
Oakes  in  the  library,  and  a  general  seeming  presence  of 
Oakes  all  over  the  house.  Early  one  summer  day,  while 
visiting  there,  Oakes  might  have  been  seen,  wrapped  in 
a  silk  morning-gown  of  George  Frederick  Cooke,  with  a 
wig  of  John  Philip  Kemble  on  his  head  and  the  sword  of 
Edmund  Kean  by  his  side,  tackled  between  the  thills  of 
a  heavy  stone  roller,  rolling  the  garden  walks  to  earn  his 
breakfast.  Forrest  was  behind  him  urging  him  forward." 

From  the  hour  these  two  met,  Forrest  took  no  step 
either  of  professional  or  personal  importance  without 

1  "  Life  of  Forrest,"  William  R.  Alger:  J.  B.  Lippincott  and  Co. 

188 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

first  consulting  Oakes.  It  is  probable,  therefore,  that  the 
Bostonian  had  a  share  in  the  plan  executed  by  Forrest 
early  in  his  career  with  a  view  to  securing  some  strictly 
American  plays  for  our  stage.  The  project  resulted  in 
heavy  money  losses  to  its  promoter,  but  it  secured  for 
the  American  stage  "The  Gladiator,"  "Jack  Cade," 
and  "  Metamora,"  all  of  which  contained  parts  played 
by  Forrest  with  great  success.  But  not,  be  it  under- 
stood, without  decided  opposition  on  the  part  of  the 
dramatic  critics,  who  were  committed  to  English  plays 
and  to  the  English  school  of  acting.  Bryant,  Halleck, 
Leggett,  and  many  other  distinguished  New  York 
journalists  of  the  period  were  Forrest's  devoted  friends; 
but  there  were  other  editorial  personages  who  were 
determined  to  "  write  down  "  this  zealous  advocate  of 
American  plays,  whose  robustious  style  was  being  widely 
imitated  by  men  utterly  without  his  genius.  In  certain 
circles  it  became  the  fashion  to  ridicule  Forrest  and  all 
that  he  did. 

Yet  he  continued  to  draw  huge  houses  and  to  make  a 
tremendous  amount  of  money.  So  much  money  that 
he  felt  himself  entitled,  after  five  years  of  constant 
labour,  to  a  two  years'  absence  in  Europe.  Before  he 
sailed,  a  farewell  banquet  was  tendered  him  at  the 
City  Hotel  by  the  leading  men  of  New  York,  and  a  medal 
struck  in  honour  of  the  occasion.  Then,  freighted  with 
the  good  wishes  of  all  who  knew  him  well,  he  sailed  for 
his  well-earned  period  of  travel,  study,  and  recreation. 

From  Paris,  especially,  he  sent  home  glowing  descrip- 
tions of  the  things  he  saw  and  the  theatres  he  attended. 

189 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  I  have  been  to  the  Louvre,  the  Tuileries,  Place  Ven- 
dome,  and  St.  Cloud,"  he  wrote,  —  "  here,  there  and 
everywhere  —  and  I  have  not  yet  seen  a  twentieth  part 
of  the  objects  which  claim  a  stranger's  attention.  One 
cannot  go  into  the  streets  for  a  moment,  indeed,  but 
something  new  attracts  his  curiosity;  and  it  seems  to 
me  that  my  senses,  which  I  have  heretofore  consid- 
ered adequate  to  the  usual  purposes  of  life,  ought  now 
to  be  enlarged  and  quickened  for  the  full  enjoyment  of 
the  objects  which  surround  me.  I  have,  of  course,  vis- 
ited some  of  the  theatres,  of  which  there  are  upwards  of 
twenty  now  open.  I  went  to  the  Theatre  Port  St.  Martin 
'the  other  night  to  see  Mademoiselle  Georges,  now,  on 
the  French  stage,  the  Queen  of  tragedy.  I  saw  her  per- 
form the  part  of  Lucrece  Borgia,  in  Victor  Hugo's  drama 
of  that  name.  Her  personation  was  truly  beautiful,  - 
nay,  that  is  too  cold  a  word;  it  was  grand,  and  even 
terrible.  Though  a  woman  more  than  fifty  years  old, 
never  can  I  forget  the  dignity  of  her  manner,  the  flexible 
and  expressive  character  of  her  yet  fine  face,  and  the 
rich,  full,  stirring  and  well-modulated  tones  of  her 
voice.  How  different  is  her  and  nature's  style  from  the 
sickly  abortions  of  the  present  English  school  of  acting, 
lately  introduced  upon  the  American  stage.  In  Made- 
moiselle Georges  you  see  no  servile  imitations  of  a  bad 
model;  but  you  behold  that  sort  of  excellence  which 
makes  you  forget  you  are  in  a  theatre,  —  that  perfec- 
tion of  art  by  which  art  is  wholly  concealed,  —  the 
lofty  and  the  thrilling,  the  subdued  and  the  grace- 
ful, harmoniously  mingling,  the  spirit  being  caught 
from  living  nature.  I  had  been  led  to  believe  that, 
in  France,  the  highest  order  of  living  excellence 
had  died  with  Talma.  It  is  not  so.  I  consider 
Mademoiselle  Georges  the  very  incarnation  of  the  tragic 


190 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Forrest  had  always  deeply  reverenced  Talma,  and  in 
no  act  performed  during  his  stay  in  Paris  did  he  take 
more  satisfaction  than  in  quietly  placing  a  laurel  crown 
on  the  obscure  grave  of  France's  greatest  actor.  One 
other  allied  experience  of  his,  while  in  Paris,  must  be 
recorded.  He  had  been  persuaded  by  a  manager  to  at- 
tend the  debut  of  a  youthful  protege  of  whom  much  was 
hoped  and,  after  witnessing  the  performance,  the  Ameri- 
can was  urged  to  give  an  opinion  of  the  aspirant's 
powers.  "  He  will  never  rise  beyond  a  respectable 
mediocrity,"  Forrest  at  once  declared.  "It  is  a  per- 
fectly hopeless  case.  There  are  no  deeps  of  latent  pas- 
sion in  him.  But  that  Jewish-looking  girl,  that  little 
bag  of  bones  with  the  marble  face  and  the  flaming  eyes, 
-  there  is  demoniacal  power  in  her.  If  she  lives  and 
does  not  burn  out  too  soon,  she  will  become  something 
wonderful."  The  "  little  bag  of  bones  "  was  the  then 
unknown  Rachel. 

While  he  was  in  Paris  news  came  to  Forrest  of  the 
death  of  the  actress  over  whom  he  had  quarrelled  with 
Caldwell.  One  finds  the  following  entry  in  his  diary  at 
the  time:  "And  so  Jane  Placide  is  dead.  The  theat- 
rical people  of  New  Orleans,  then,  have  lost  much.  She 
imparted  a  grace  and  force  and  dignity  to  her  r61e 
which  few  actresses  have  been  able  so  admirably  to 
combine.  She  excelled  in  a  profession  in  the  arduous 
sphere  of  which  even  to  succeed  requires  uncommon 
gifts,  both  mental  and  physical.  Her  disposition  was 
as  lovely  as  her  person.  Heaven  lodge  and  rest  her  fair 
soul."  ' 

191 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Forrest  returned  to  America  in  September,  1836;  but 
he  stayed  only  long  enough  to  say  good-by.  For  he 
had  determined  to  accept  the  very  flattering  offers  which 
had  been  made  to  him  to  play  a  series  of  engagements  in 
the  principal  British  theatres,  and  sailed  almost  im- 
mediately to  fulfil  this  contract.  The  desire  to  see  him 
again  on  the  stage  in  Philadelphia  and  in  New  York  was 
so  general  and  so  eagerly  urged,  however,  that  he  played 
six  nights  in  each  city  before  sailing.  The  crowd  and 
excitement  at  the  opening  night  of  the  Philadelphia  en- 
gagement was  almost  unprecedented,  all  the  passages 
to  the  house  being  blocked  with  applicants  for  admission 
two  hours  before  the  rising  of  the  curtain.  In  New  York, 
at  the  Park,  it  was  the  same  story.  Box  tickets  were 
sold  at  auction  for  twenty-five  dollars  each,  and  the  tra- 
gedian's personal  profit  for  the  six  performances 
amounted  to  three  thousand  dollars.  The  critics  gener- 
ally pronounced  his  acting  deepened  and  improved  by  his 
months  of  rest  and  travel,  and  the  plaudits  of  his  audi- 
tors showed  that,  to  their  minds,  his  work  was  well- 
nigh  perfect.  They,  no  less  than  he,  recalled  with  emo- 
tion, too,  the  night  some  ten  years  before  when,  poor 
and  almost  unknown,  he  had  played  Othello  in  that  very 
house  for  the  benefit  of  a  distressed  brother- actor. 

In  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  on  October  17,  1836,  Forrest 
made  his  first  professional  appearance  in  England.  The 
role  he  had  chosen  was  Spartacus,  and  the  immense 
audience,  which  crowded  the  theatre  from  dome  to  pit, 
received  his  acting  with  marked  approbation.  But  for 
the  play  they  felt  little  enthusiasm,  and  when  he  at- 

192 


EDWIN    FORREST 
See  page  173 


WILLIAM  C.  MACREADY  AS   SHYLOCK 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

tempted  to  include  the  author  of  "  The  Gladiator  " 
in  their  approving  verdict,  there  were  protests  and  re- 
peated cries  that  he  let  himself  be  seen  in  Shakespeare. 
He  was  quick  to  take  the  hint.  The  bill  on  twenty-four 
out  of  the  thirty-two  nights  he  played  here  was  Shakes- 
peare, —  Macbeth  seven  times,  King  Lear  eight,  and 
Othello  nine. 

"  This  approbation  of  my  Shakespeare  parts  gives 
me  peculiar  pleasure,"  he  wrote  his  friend  Leggett,  "  as 
it  refutes  the  opinions  very  confidently  expressed  by  a 
certain  clique  at  home  that  I  would  fail  in  those  charac- 
ters before  a  London  audience.  But  it  is  not  only  from 
my  reception  within  the  walls  of  the  theatre  that  I  have 
reason  to  be  pleased  with  my  English  friends.  I  have 
received  many  grateful  kindnesses  in  their  hospitable 
homes,  and  in  their  intellectual  fireside-circles  have 
drunk  both  instruction  and  delight.  I  suppose  you  saw 
in  the  newspapers  that  a  dinner  was  given  to  me  by  the 
Garrick  Club.  Serjeant  Talfourd  presided,  and  made  a 
very  happy  and  complimentary  speech,  to  which  I  re- 
plied. Charles  Kemble  and  Mr.  Macready  were  there. 
The  latter  gentleman  has  behaved  in  the  handsomest 
manner  to  me.  Before  I  arrived  in  England  he  had 
spoken  of  me  in  the  most  flattering  terms,  and  on  my 
arrival,  he  embraced  the  earliest  opportunity  to  call 
upon  me,  since  which  time  he  has  extended  to  me  many 
delicate  courtesies  and  attentions,  all  showing  the  native 
kindness  of  his  heart,  and  his  great  refinement  and  good 
breeding." 

This  passage  should  be  remembered  when  we  come  to 
the  historic  feud  between  Forrest  and  Macready. 
One  of  the  "  intellectual  fireside-circles  "  to  which 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Forrest  resorted  with  particular  delight,  while  in  London, 
was  that  of  John  Sinclair,  the  distinguished  English 
vocalist.  The  attraction  was  Catherine  Norton  Sin- 
clair, the  lovely  daughter  of  the  house.  Miss  Sinclair 
had  a  fine  mind,  as  well  as  a  beautiful  person,  and  that 
she  fully  returned  the  profound  passion  which  Forrest, 
from  their  first  meeting,  felt  for  her,  there  seems  no  doubt. 
For,  more  than  thirty  years  afterwards,  when  the  man 
was  lying  cold  in  death,  this  woman,  for  whom  he  had 
suffered  so  much,  said  brokenly:  "  The  first  time  I  saw 
him  —  I  recall  it  now  as  clearly  as  though  it  were  but 
yesterday,  —  the  impression  he  made  was  so  instan- 
taneous and  so  strong,  that  I  remember  I  whispered  to 
myself,  while  a  thrill  ran  through  me,  '  This  is  the  hand- 
somest man  on  whom  my  eyes  have  ever  fallen.' ' 

He  was  the  "  handsomest  man  on  whom  her  eyes  had 
ever  fallen,"  she  the  "  first  woman  he  had  ever  desired 
to  marry;  "  to  their  conjugal  life,  and  not  to  their  court- 
ship days,  was  to  be  applicable  Shakespeare's  saying, 

"  The  course  of  true  love  never  did  run  smooth." 

For  no  obstacles  whatever  presented  themselves  to 
their  union,  and  on  one  of  the  fairest  days  in  June,  1837, 
they  were  married  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  London,  set- 
ting out,  very  soon  afterwards,  for  the  husband's  home 
beyond  the  seas.  In  Philadelphia,  where  the  tragedian 
opened  at  the  old  Chestnut  Street  Theatre,  that  fall, 
his  wife  made  a  deep  and  lasting  impression,  by  reason 
of  her  native  delicacy  of  mind  and  the  refinement  of  her 
manners,  on  the  friends  to  whom  he  presented  her.  It 

194 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

is  hard  to  believe  that  such  a  woman  as  she  then  seemed 
and  as  many  of  the  letters  which  she  has  left  behind  rep- 
resent her  could  have  been  guilty  of  the  low  amours  of 
wliich  Forrest  later  accused  her.  But  that  he  was  honest 
in  his  conviction  that  she  had  sinned  against  her  marriage 
vows  we  must  believe.  And  that,  whether  guilty  of  adul- 
tery or  not,  she  had  so  misconducted  herself  as  to  spoil 
his  adoring  ideal  of  her  is  also  a  fact.  Thus,  after  ten 
short  years  of  heaven,  there  succeeded  many  long  and 
dreary  years  of  what  must  have  been  hell  for  them  both. 
For  besides  the  pain  of  separation,  mutual  misunderstand- 
ing, and  corroding  distrust,  there  was  the  horror  of  pub- 
licity, —  inasmuch  as  "in  an  evil  hour  for  himself, 
in  an  evil  hour  for  his  art  and  for  the  struggling  drama 
in  America,  Edwin  Forrest  threw  open  the  doors  of  his 
home  to  the  scrutiny  of  the  world  and  appealed  to  the 
courts  to  remove  the  skeleton  which  was  hidden  in  his 
closet."  l  Of  that  more  anon. 

The  year  after  Forrest  returned  from  his  successful 
season  in  England,  he  presented  for  the  first  time  in 
America  Sir  Edward  Bulwer  Lytton's  "  Lady  of  Lyons  " 
and  astonished  his  friends,  no  less  than  his  enemies,  by 
the  brilliant  success  he  made  of  his  part;  that  Forrest 
was  really  a  great  actor  was  never  more  clear  than  when 
he  assumed  with  satisfaction  to  even  the  most  carping 
of  critics  the  highly  romantic  role  of  Claude  Melnotte. 
Another  interesting  incident  of  these  years,  during  which 
his  domestic  life  was  still  one  of  perfect  felicity,  was  the 
visit  paid  by  the  actor  to  ex-President  Jackson,  then 

1  Sketch  of  Forrest  by  Lawrence  Barrett. 
195 


The.  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

living  in  retirement  at  the  Hermitage,  Tennessee.  One 
of  the  topics  these  two  ardent  Democrats  1  discussed  to- 
gether was  the  proposed  annexation  of  Texas.  Forrest 
never  forgot  the  way  in  which  the  stooped  and  faltering 
sage  was  quickened  at  once  into  the  passionate  prophet 
by  the  ardour  of  his  belief  in  this  measure.  It  was  upon 
the  memory  of  this  experience,  which  proved  the  electric 
capacity  of  feeble  old  age  to  be  suddenly  charged  and  to 
emit  lightnings  and  thunders,  that  Forrest  modelled 
the  great  explosions  of  his  Richelieu. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  beginnings  of  the  famous 
feud  with  Macready.  That  the  Englishman  bestowed 
upon  Forrest,  during  the  latter's  first  professional  en- 
gagement in  London,  attentions  for  which  the  American 
was  duly  grateful,  we  have  already  seen.  On  the  surface, 
indeed,  the  two  were  almost  friends.  Yet  there  could 
be  no  real  sympathy  between  an  ardent  democrat,  who 
devotedly  loved  the  profession  of  the  player,  and  a  snob 
who  had  all  his  life  felt  the  deepest  aversion  to  this 
career.  In  1843  Macready  came  to  the  United  States 
for  the  first  time,  played  a  successful  series  of  engage- 
ments, and  was  well  received  everywhere.  The  two 
or  three  weeks  that  he  was  acting  in  New  York  he  made 
his  headquarters  at  the  home  of  the  Forrests,  and  the 
American  tragedian,  with  exceedingly  fine  feeling,  re- 
fused urgent  invitations  from  several  managers  to  ap- 
pear in  rival  houses  at  the  time  of  Macready 's  visit  to 
other  cities.  Notwithstanding  all  this,  however,  Mac- 

1  Four  years  previously  Forrest  had  been  offered  the  Democratic 
nomination  for  Congress. 

196 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

ready  went  back  to  England  full  of  a  corroding  jealousy 
of  Forrest.  The  press,  by  constantly  comparing  the 
two  actors,  had  succeeded  in  making  both  of  them 
self-conscious,  and  though  Forrest  probably  had  as 
little  to  do  with  unkind  notices  of  Macready  as  Mac- 
ready  had  directly  to  do  with  the  harsh  criticism  which 
greeted  Forrest,  when  the  American  next  visited  London, 
a  bitter  professional  jealousy  had  been  aroused  between 
them. 

Then  Forrest  did  a  really  outrageous  thing  to  Mac- 
ready  when  the  latter  was  playing  Hamlet  in  Edinburgh. 
While  the  Englishman  was  careering  across  the  stage, 
flourishing  his  handkerchief  above  his  head  and  acting 
his  conception  of  the  mad  prince  as  he  spoke  the  lines: 

"  They  are  coming  to  the  play;   I  must  be  idle. 
Get  you  to  a  place," 

Forrest  gave  vent  to  a  deep  and  prolonged  hiss  as  a  sign 
of  his  profound  disapproval  of  this  "  business."  The 
right  of  a  spectator  to  express  his  condemnation  of  a 
player  by  hissing  was  then  unquestioned,  and  had  Forrest 
not  been  a  brother-actor  in  notoriously  unfriendly  re- 
lations with  Macready,  nothing  would  have  been  thought 
of  the  matter.  Forrest  was  always  wont  to  maintain  that 
it  was  simply  as  a  spectator  that  he  hissed  Mr.  Macready, 
vigorously  asserting,  in  a  letter  to  the  London  Times, 
that  "  there  are  two  legitimate  modes  of  evincing  ap- 
probation and  disapprobation  in  the  theatre,  —  one 
expressive  of  approval  by  the  clapping  of  hands,  and 
the  other  by  hisses  to  make  dissent;  and  as  well- tuned 

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Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

and  hearty  applause  is  the  just  meed  of  the  actor  who  de- 
serves well,  so  also  is  hissing  a  salutary  and  wholesome 
corrective  of  abuses  of  the  stage;  and  it  was  against  one 
of  these  abuses  that  my  dissent  was  expressed.  .  .  .  The 
truth  is  Mr.  Macready  thought  fit  to  introduce  a  fancy 
dance  into  his  performance  of  '  Hamlet '  which  I 
thought,  and  still  think,  a  desecration  of  the  scene.  .  .  . 
That  a  man  may  manifest  his  pleasure  or  displeasure 
after  the  recognized  mode,  according  to  the  best  of  his 
judgment,  actuated  by  proper  motives  and  for  justifiable 
ends  is  a  right  which  until  now  I  have  never  once  heard 
questioned;  and  I  contend  that  right  extends  equally 
to  an  actor  in  his  capacity  as  a  spectator,  as  to  any  other 
man."  The  charge  of  professional  jealousy  Forrest  con- 
temptuously dismissed;  but  he  could  not  have  failed, 
in  his  most  sincere  moments,  deeply  to  regret  that  he 
had  not  been  restrained,  that  unhappy  night  at  Edin- 
burgh, by  feelings  of  professional  courtesy. 

At  this  time  in  Britain  and  later  in  New  York,  how- 
ever, it  seems  to  have  been  a  case  of  the  pot  calling  the 
kettle  black.  For  although  Forrest  steadfastly  refused 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  an  organized  opposition  to 
Macready,  when  the  Englishman  made  his  second  visit 
to  America,  he  did  not  disdain  to  enter  into  a  war  of 
words  with  his  rival,  thus  fanning  to  a  flame  a  fire  al- 
ready fierce.  The  English  articles  pro  and  con  had  all 
been  copied  in  America,  it  must  be  recalled,  and  had 
naturally  lost  nothing  by  the  process.  So,  when  Macready 
began  his  closing  engagement  in  New  York,  in  May,  1849, 
the  elements  of  a  storm  were  at  hanct.  For  the  Bowery 

198 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

boys  loved  Forrest  scarcely  less  than  they  loved  a  fight. 
What  ensued  belongs  to  Macready's  story  rather  than 
to  Forrest's;  and  the  entire  episode  is  so  disgraceful  to 
the  American  stage  that  it  would  have  been  passed  over 
in  silence  did  it  not  represent,  historically,  the  climax 
of  that  hysterical  devotion,  on  the  part  of  the  public, 
to  the  private  interests  of  stage  idols  which  is  now  almost 
extinct. 

Another  flagrant  illustration  of  this  sort  of  thing  was 
to  mark  the  career  of  America's  leading  tragedian.  We 
refer  to  the  public  demonstrations  which  he  permitted, 
not  to  say  encouraged,  after  he  had  taken  into  court  the 
unhappiness  of  his  home.  It  Has  often  been  remarked 
that  where  his  passions  were  concerned,  good  taste,  as  a 
guiding  principle,  made  little  appeal  to  Forrest.  A  man 
of  finer  sensibilities,  who  had  for  ten  years  enjoyed  the 
love  of  a  wife  whom  he  tenderly  cherished  and  passion- 
ately adored,  would  have  suffered  in  silence  whatever 
buffets  and  scorns  might  come  to  him  on  the  woman's  ac- 
count. But  with  Forrest,  as  with  Othello,  jealousy  once 
excited  could  not  be  downed  or  nobly  borne. 

Alger  1  describes  categorically  the  cause  of  the  initial 
seed  of  jealousy  planted  in  the  spring  of  1848,  while 
Forrest    was    fulfilling    a   professional    engagement   in 
Cincinnati,  his  wife  being  then  with  him.    He  also  gives 
in  full  the  famous  "  Consuelo  "  letter,  afterwards  sent, 
it  was  alleged,  to  Mrs.  Forrest  by  the  man  who,  some 
months  earlier,  had  given  the  husband  cause  for  sus- 
picion.   To  one  of  Forrest's  "  ample  experience  of  the 
1  In  his  "  Life  of  Forrest." 
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The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

world  this  letter  seemed  to  leave  no  doubt  of  an  utter 
lapse  from  the  marriage  vow  on  the  part  of  its  recipient," 
he  says  in  his  hero's  defence.  But  this  conclusion  does 
not  appear  at  all  inevitable  to  a  dispassionate  reader 
of  the  missive.  And  that  it  did  not  at  first  appear  inevi- 
table to  Forrest,  we  must  believe,  inasmuch  as  he  at  once 
wrote  an  oath  of  innocence  couched  in  the  most  stringent 
and  solemn  terms,  which  he  was  apparently  satisfied  by 
seeing  his  wife  sign.  But  jealousy, 

"  .  .  .  the  green-eyed  monster  which  doth  mock 
The  meat  it  feeds  on," 

now  had  a  bitterly-resentful  husband  in  its  clutches, 
and  after  the  actor  had  brooded  in  silence  for  a  whole 
year  over  what  he  felt  to  be  his  wife's  broken  faith,  he 
confessed  to  a  near  friend  what  was  troubling  him,  ex- 
claiming passionately,  when  his  listener  attempted  to 
defend  Mrs.  Forrest  by  praising  her  physical  and  spiritual 
beauty:  "  She  now  looks  ugly  to  me;  her  face  is  black 
and  hideous."  Yet  in  the  interim  he  had  been  writing 
his  wife  letters  full  of  tenderness  and  devotion! 

A  violent  and  final  rupture  came  on  a  day  when  Mrs. 
Forrest  exclaimed:  "  It  is  a  lie,"  to  some  cutting  remarks 
made  by  the  actor  concerning  her  sister.  Restraining 
himself  with  difficulty,  Forrest  said  painfully:  "  If  a 
man  had  said  that  to  me  he  should  die.  I  cannot  live 
with  a  woman  who  says  it."  And  he  did  not.  From  that 
moment  separation  was  inevitable.  They  mutually 
decided,  however,  that  the  cause  of  their  parting  should 
not  be  made  known.  Before  leaving  the  house,  she 

200 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

asked  him  to  give  her  a  copy  of  the  works  of  Shakespeare 
as  a  memento  of  him.  "  He  did  so,  writing  in  it '  Mrs. 
Edwin  Forrest,  from  Edwin  Forrest/  a  sad  alteration 
from  the  inscription  uniformly  made  in  the  books  he  had 
before  presented  to  her,  —  '  From  her  lover  and  husband, 
Edwin  Forrest.'  He  then  accompanied  her  in  a  carriage 
to  the  house  of  her  generous  friends,  Parke  and  Fanny 
Godwin." 

Parke  Godwin  was  the  close  associate  in  journalism  of 
Charles  A.  Dana  and  of  William  Cullen  Bryant,  whose 
daughter  he  had  married.  The  fact  that  he  and  his 
friends  sided  with  Mrs.  Forrest  undoubtedly  did  much, 
at  the  very  beginning  of  the  estrangement,  to  create  a 
favourable  impression  in  the  lady's  behalf.  On  March 
i,  1849,  Forrest  procured  a  legal  separation  from  his 
wife,  allowing  her  fifteen  hundred  dollars  per  annum. 
It  was  agreed  that  they  should  live  apart  on  this  basis, 
each  being  silent  as  to  the  cause  of  their  trouble.  For  a 
time  they  kept  to  this  and  corresponded  at  intervals,  the 
wife  in  one  letter  asserting  her  conviction  that  "  some 
day  your  own  naturally  noble  and  just  mind  will  do  me 
justice,  and  you  will  believe  in  the  affection  which,  for 
twelve  years,  has  never  swerved  from  you.  I  cannot, 
nor  would  I,  subscribe  myself  other  than  yours  now  and 
ever,  Catherine  N.Forrest."  Yet  she  finally  declared  that 
she  would  consent  to  a  divorce  if  this  would  promote  his 
peace  of  mind.  And  he,  at  last,  admitted  that  it  was 
his  wish  so  to  put  a  final  termination  to  a  state  of  things 
which  was  wearing  out  his  life. 

The  next  step  in  this  wretched  business  was  the  filing 

201 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

by  Forrest  of  an  application  for  divorce  in  Philadelphia. 
This  was  instantly  followed  by  a  similar  application  on 
the  part  of  Mrs.  Forrest  in  New  York.  The  ensuing 
trial,  with  its  incrimination  of  adultery  and  its  recrimina- 
tion of  the  same  offence,  began  in  December,  1851,  and 
lasted  for  six  weeks.  Those  who  care  for  the  details  of 
the  matter  may  find  them  ad  nauseam  in  the  papers  of 
the  time.  For  the  evidence  and  arguments  were  repro- 
duced in  the  press  with  a  minuteness  never  before  known 
in  America,  and  the  public  appeared  to  enjoy  itself  hugely 
as  it  listened  or  read.1  "  Many  of  the  most  respectable 
citizens  stood  waiting,  eager  to  rush  in  at  the  first  open- 
ing of  the  doors,"  records  the  New  York  Herald's  rep- 
resentative the  morning  after  the  case  began  to  be  tried. 
And  he  tjien  describes  as  follows  the  appearance  on  the 
first  day  of  the  trial  of  the  two  people  chiefly  concerned. 
"  Mrs.  Forrest  was  habited  in  black,  wore  a  black  silk 
bonnet  lined  with  a  white  cap  and  had  a  black  lace  veil 
covering  her  face.  .  .  .  Mr.  Forrest  wore  his  usual  dress, 
namely  a  black  frock  coat  with  velvet  facings,  collar 
a  la  Byron  and  a  considerable  display  of  snowy  linen." 
Unless  there  was  a  great  deal  of  perjury  on  the  part  of 
the  various  witnesses  called,  husband  and  wife  were  about 
equally  guilty  of  the  offence  with  which  each  charged  the 
other.  But  Mrs.  Forrest  almost  at  once  won  the  sym- 
pathy of  the  public  by  her  chaste  and  gentle  bearing; 
and  her  husband  quite  as  soon  lost  whatever  advantage 
he  may  have  had  to  start  with  by  his  bluntness  and 

1  Several  editions  of  the  entire  evidence  were  published  in  book  form, 
too. 

2O2 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

violence.  The  verdict  was  in  the  woman's  favour, 
Forrest  being  condemned  to  pay  the  court  costs  and 
three  thousand  dollars  a  year  alimony.1  Five  times  he 
appealed,  only  to  be  baffled  and  overthrown  at  the  end; 
and  it  was  not  until  1868,  after  eighteen  years  of  the 
'  hardest  kind  of  fighting,  that  he  finally  abandoned  further 
resistance  and  paid  over  the  full  award,  —  sixty-four 
thousand  dollars.  Of  this  sum  all  but  a  pittance  of  five 
thousand  dollars  had  already  been  eaten  up  by  the  ex- 
penses incident  to  the  trial. 

The  bad  taste  which  we  have  previously  noted  in 
Forrest  now  again  came  to  the  front.  He  did  not  disdain 
to  use  for  purposes  of  advertisement  this  tragedy  in  his 
domestic  life.  When  he  reappeared  at  the  Broadway 
Theatre,  a  fortnight  after  the  close  of  the  trial,  he  permit- 
ted a  sign,  "  This  is  the  people's  verdict  "  to  be  hung 
across  the  crowded  house  and  in  his  speech  at  the  close 
of  the  performance  there  were  repeated  references  to 
his-"  cause,  not  my  cause  alone,  but  yours,  the  cause  of 
every  man  in  this  community,  the  cause  of  every  human 
being,  the  cause  of  every  honest  wife,  the  cause  of  every 
virtuous  woman,  the  cause  of  everyone  who  cherishes 
a  home  and  the  pure  spirit  which  should  abide  there." 
At  the  close  of  this  engagement,  which  had  been  through- 
out one  of  unprecedented  houses,  Forrest  declared  that 
such  a  demonstration  vindicated  him  more  than  a  thou- 
sand verdicts,  "  for  it  springs  from  those  who  make  and 
unmake  judges." 

1  Mrs.  Forrest  was  given  permission  to  marry  again,  he  being  denied 
that  privilege. 

203 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Not  only  in  New  York  but  wherever  he  played,  during 
the  years  that  succeeded  the  first  verdict  against  him, 
the  publicity  which  had  been  given  to  this  squalid  divorce 
suit  served  as  a  means  of  drawing  large  crowds  to  the 
theatre.  From  Portland  and  Boston  to  Cincinnati  and 
St.  Louis,  from  Buffalo  and  Detroit  to  Charleston  and 
New  Orleans,  the  effect  was  the  same.  A  manager  had 
only  to  announce  Forrest's  name  to  cause  throngs  to 
flock  to  see  him  play.  Wild  applause  always  greeted 
him  on  his  entrance,  and  after  the  final  curtain  had  been 
rung  down,  he  was  frequently  serenaded  at  his  hotel. 
Of  course,  he  was  accumulating  a  great  deal  of  money  all 
this  time.  In  1851  he  changed  his  residence  from  New 
York  to  Philadelphia,  taking  his  three  sisters  to  live 
with  him.  To  these  good  women  he  was  ever  tenderly 
devoted.  And  he  outlived  them  all. 

The  first  intimation  of  failing  strength  came  to  him  in 
1865,  while  playing  Damon  at  the  Holiday  Street 
Theatre  in  Baltimore.  To  his  horror  he  found,  when  he 
finished  his  part,  that  he  had  suffered  a  partial  paralysis  of 
the  sciatic  nerve.  Gone  for  ever  now  was  the  sturdy  gait 
and  the  proud  tread  of  the  herculean  actor.  The  follow- 
ing year,  none  the  less,  he  went  to  San  Francisco,  in 
response  to  very  flattering  offers,  making  his  debut  in 
the  Opera  House  there  as  Richelieu  before  an  immense 
audience.  The  first  ticket  sold  for  this  performance 
brought  five  hundred  dollars.  For  thirty-five  nights  he 
played  to  an  aggregate  of  over  sixty  thousand  persons 
and  was  paid  twenty  thousand  dollars  in  gold. 

As  late  as  the  season  of  1871-1872,  when  he  was  in  his 

204 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

sixty-sixth  year,  he  travelled  over  seven  thousand  miles 
and  acted  in  fifty-two  different  places  between  October  i 
and  April  4.  His  receipts  were  over  thirty-nine  thousand 
dollars,  derived  from  Philadelphia,  Columbus,  Cincinnati, 
New  Orleans,  Galveston,  Houston,  Nashville,  Omaha, 
Kansas  City,  St.  Louis,  Chicago,  Pittsburg,  Cleveland, 
Buffalo,  Detroit,  Rochester,  Syracuse,  Utica,  Troy,  Al- 
bany, New  York,  and  Boston.  At  Kansas  City  excursion- 
ists were  brought  by  railroad  from  a  distance  of  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  at  three  dollars  each  the  round  trip. 
That  he  was  still  playing  superbly  may  be  gathered 
from  the  following  account  of  his  work  in  Lear  made  by  a 
distinguished  author  in  a  private  letter  after  seeing  him 
play  at  the  Globe  Theatre,  Boston.  "  I  saw  Lear  him- 
self and  never  can  I  forget  him,  the  poor  disowned  wan- 
dering king,  whose  every  look  and  tone  went  to  the  heart. 
...  I  could  not  suppress  my  tears  in  the  last  scene.  .  .  . 
The  whole  picture  will  stay  in  my  memory  so  long  as  soul 
and  body  hang  together."  Which  reminds  me  of  For- 
rest's reply  to  J.  B.  McCullough  of  the  St.  Louis  Demo- 
crat, when,  towards  the  end  of  the  older  man's  life,  that 
gentleman  remarked  to  him:  "I  never  saw  you  play 
Lear  as  well  as  you  did  to-night."  "  Play  Lear,"  re- 
torted the  veteran,  rising  laboriously  from  his  chair  to 
his  full  and  imposing  height,  "  Play  Lear!  What  do  you 
mean,  sir?  I  play  Hamlet,  Richard,  Shylock,  Virginius, 
if  you  please,  but  by  God,  sir,  I  am  Lear."  Nor  was 
this  wholly  imaginative.  His  hearthstone  was  deserted, 
and  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  all  the  world  was  ungrateful 
and  that  in  his  old  age  he  stood  alone,  unkinged. 

205 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Forrest  was  a  lover  of  beautiful  things  and  of  rare  old 
books.  Gabriel  Harrison  describes  a  Thanksgiving  Day 
spent  at  the  Broad  Street  residence,  towards  the  close 
of  the  great  tragedian's  life,  in  which  the  old  folio  edi- 
tion of  Shakespeare,  1623,  was  taken  out  of  its  case  and 
exhibited  with  the  greatest  possible  tenderness  and  pride. 
Other  rare  things  of  the  stage  that  had  belonged  to 
Garrick  and  similarly  famous  actors  were  also  shown. 
"  Then  he  conducted  his  guest  to  the  basement  of  his 
house,  and  exhibited  a  perfect  little  theatre,  containing 
scenery,  footlights,  and  room  enough  to  seat  at  least  two 
hundred  people.  '  Here/  he  said,  '  I  have  had  little 
children  perform  a  whole  play  which  I  have  rehearsed 
with  them  to  my  great  pleasure. '  This  remark,"  Harrison 
comments,  "  was  a  proof  of  his  tender  heart;  it  showed 
that  half  a  century  of  buffets  with  the  hard  world  had 
not  chilled  the  impulses  of  youth." 

Forrest  had  all  his  life  dearly  loved  children  and  been 
very  tender  with  them.  One  cannot  help  feeling  that, 
if  his  son  had  lived,  the  estrangement  between  him  and 
his  wife  would  somehow  have  been  averted.  There  is  a 
beautiful  story  about  one  occasion  when,  as  a  young  man 
acting  at  the  Old  National  Theatre  in  Boston,  he  hurried 
from  the  playhouse,  Metamora's  paint  only  imperfectly 
removed  from  his  cheeks,  to  nurse  the  sick  baby  of  a 
woman  staying  at  the  same  hotel.  The  child  had  been 
ailing  for  many  days,  and  its  mother  was  quite  worn  out 
from  caring  for  it.  But  Forrest  paced  up  and  down  the 
room  all  night  long,  soothing  it,  and  when  the  doctor 
came  the  next  day,  he  said  that  the  vitality  which  the 

206 


EDWIN    FORREST   AS    KING    LEAR 


£2     K* 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

infant  drew  from  the  man's  strong  breast,  against  which 
it  had  finally  slept,  had  been  the  means  of  saving  its 
life. 

His  own  life's  span  was  drawing  to  a  close.  A  shatter- 
ing illness  in  the  spring  of  1872  compelled  him  to  retire 
definitively  from  the  stage,  and  though  he  gave  some 
public  readings  after  that,  he  made  no  great  success  of  it. 
After  reading  "  Othello,"  on  Saturday  afternoon,  De- 
cember 7, 1872,  in  Tremont  Temple,  Boston,1  he  was  glad 
to  journey  back  to  his  Philadelphia  home  as  quickly  as 
he  could.  And  there,  on  the  morning  of  December  12, 
his  servant  found  him  dead  in  his  bed.  He  had  slipped 
away  quietly  and  painlessly  in  the  night.  His  will  pro- 
vided a  retreat  for  aged  actors,  which  was  opened  in 
1876.  Of  it  Wilson  Barrett  has  said  that  it  is  "  like  a 
gentleman's  country  seat,  and  the  old  actors  and  actresses 
his  honoured  guests."  There  are  seldom  more  than  a 
dozen  women  and  men  here  resident  at  a  time,  the  idea 
being  that  these  guests  of  Edwin  Forrest's  bounty  shall 
have  every  comfort  and  be  allowed  every  privilege  pos- 
sible. Each  year  Forrest's  guests  appropriately  celebrate 
his  birthday  by  giving  a  play. 

Mrs.  Forrest,  or  Mrs.  Catherine  Norton  Sinclair,  as 
we  must  now  perforce  call  her,  survived  her  husband 


1  The  Boston  Journal  of  December  9,  1872,  gave  about  five  lines  of 
fine  print  to  Forrest  on  this  occasion:  "  The  audience  included  much  of 
the  genius  and  culture  of  our  community,  although  the  attendance  was 
not,  numerically  speaking,  all  it  should  have  been."  The  impassioned 
scenes  from  "  Othello  "  were  delivered,  the  critic  added,  "  with  the 
marked  dramatic  power  for  which  Mr.  Forrest  is  distinguished." 

207 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

nearly  twenty  years.  Soon  after  the  trial  she  deter- 
mined to  go  on  the  stage  and  played  a  season  at 
Brougham's  Lyceum  (later  Wallack's),  opening  on 
February  2,  1822,  in  "  School  For  Scandal."  After 
that  she  played  "  Lady  of  Lyons/'  "  Much  Ado  About 
Nothing,"  "Love's  Sacrifice,"  and  "The  Patrician's 
Daughter."  George  Vandenhoff,  a  prominent  English 
actor  who  now  supported  her,  trained  her  for  her  parts, 
and  he  has  categorically  described,  in  his  interesting 
volume,  "An  Actor's  Note-Book,"  the  terms  of  their 
alliance.  He  was  an  utter  stranger  to  this  lady,  he  de- 
clares, until  "  some  time  in  1851,"  when  he  was  invited 
-  even  urged  —  to  "  coach  "  her  for  the  stage.  At 
first  he  was  reluctant  to  do  this  because  he  believed 
that  it  was  too  late  in  life  for  her  to  take  such  a  step;  but 
upon  her  representation  that  she  would  probably  have 
to  earn  her  living  in  this  way,  he  consented  to  help  her 
prepare  three  or  four  parts.  Since  she  had  no  money  with 
which  to  pay  her  teacher,  it  was  agreed  that  in  considera- 
tion of  his  instructions  and  of  his  performing  with  her, 
he  was  to  have  an  equal  share  of  such  profits  as  "  her 
temporary  and  factitious  attraction  would  secure." 
(Vandenhoff  had  been  trained  for  the  law.) 

It  was  by  Vandenhoff 's  advice,  we  are  told,  that  the 
lady  played  Lady  Teazle  the  night  of  her  New  York 
debut.  He  regarded  this  as  the  one  part  in  which  she 
could  give  a  fairly  artistic  performance.  These  details 
are  of  interest  from  the  fact  that  Vandenhoff  was  con- 
siderably criticized  at  the  time  in  the  belief  that  he  had 
"  put  money  in  his  purse  by  taking  advantage  of  Mrs. 

208 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Sinclair's  necessities."  From  his  statement  of  their 
financial  relations,  it  would  appear,  however,  that  not  for 
some  years  did  he  even  "  come  out  even  "  on  the  deal. 

During  the  Sinclair-Vandenhoff  engagement  at  the 
National  Theatre,  Boston,  in  the  spring  of  1852,  the 
theatre  was  destroyed  by  fire,  the  dramatic  stock  com- 
pany losing  most  of  its  belongings.  The  old  Boston 
Theatre,  on  Federal  Street,  was  available,  however,  and 
there  Mrs.  Sinclair  was  enabled  to  complete  her  Boston 
time.  She  left  New  York  for  England  on  June  16,  1852. 
She  appeared  at  the  Museum,  Albany,  New  York,  in 
January,  and  at  the  Varieties  Theatre,  New  Orleans, 
Louisiana,  in  March,  1853.  She  later  toured  California 
and  Australia,  supported  by  Henry  Sedley,  another 
excellent  actor,  who  had  married  Anne  Sinclair,  her 
sister.  Finally  Mrs.  Sinclair  became  the  proprietress  of 
a  theatre  in  San  Francisco,  and  is  said  to  have  realized 
two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  therefrom.  Her 
last  professional  appearance  on  any  stage  was  on  De- 
cember 18,  1859,  when  she  played  in  New  York  for 
charity.  She  died,  June  9,  1891,  at  the  New  York  resi- 
dence of  her  nephew,  William  Sedley. 


209 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A    PLAYER    WHO   INSPIRED    A    SONG    AND    ANOTHER   WHO 
COMPOSED   ONE 

GABRIEL  HARRISON,  whose  "  Memoir  of  Forrest  "  - 
written  from  his  own  personal  knowledge  of  the  man 
and  actor  —  has  several  times  been  quoted,  at  this  point 
may  very  well  introduce  us  to  the  woman  player  of  the 
nineteenth  century  whom  he  regards  as  alone  worthy 
to  stand  alongside  Forrest.  Of  the  many  players  he  had 
seen  —  and  he  names  the  elder  Vandenhoff ,  the  elder 
Wallack,  Charles  Kemble,  Charles  Kean,  Hamblin, 
Joseph  Jefferson,  Davenport,  Edwin  Booth,  Charles 
Dillon,  McCullough,  Barrett,  Irving,  Hackett,  Matilda 
Heron,  Fanny  Kemble,  Charlotte  Cushman,  Rachel, 
Ristori,  Clara  Morris,  Mary  Anderson,  and  Mrs.  Duff, 
only  the  last-named  player,  he  asserts,  was  anything  like 
equal  to  Forrest  in  elocution,  grandeur,  electrical  force, 
and  detail  of  finish.  "Like  some  new  star  of  great 
purity  and  light,  this  lady,"  he  declares,  "  quietly  came 
among  the  dramatic  luminaries,  and  as  quietly  and 
mysteriously  disappeared.  That  her  genius  was  not 
early  and  fully  recognized  and  ranked  with  the  celebrated 
Sarah  Siddons  is  the  most  mysterious  thing  belonging  to 

210 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  history  of  the  stage.  It  is  with  me  impossible  to 
conceive  anything  nearer  to  dramatic  perfection  in 
voice,  elocution,  facial  expression,  gesture,  and  graceful 
movement  than  was  possessed  by  this  accomplished 
and  beautiful  woman.  Her  face,  delicate  and  refined  in 
all  its  outlines,  her  rather  large  gray  eyes  full  of  soul  and 
intelligence,  her  figure  of  medium  height  with  fine  pro- 
portions, —  every  personal  trait  excited  the  most  re- 
fined admiration  alike  on  and  off  the  stage." 

Inasmuch  as  Mrs.  Duff's  last  appearance  as  an  actress 
was  seventy-five  years  ago,  naturally  there  can  be  found 
no  living  witness  to  the  wonderful  power  of  her  work. 
But  John  Gilbert,  who  is  well  remembered  as  a  person 
quite  competent  to  acclaim  great  acting,  often  asserted 
that  "  she  was,  without  exception,  the  most  exquisite 
tragic  actress  he  ever  saw."  The  elder  Booth  called  her 
"  the  best  actress  in  the  world;  "  by  the  elder  Kean  she 
was  rebuked  for  attracting  from  him  his  proper  share 
of  the  night's  applause;  Forrest  declared  her  the  most 
desirable  leading  woman  with  whom  he  had  ever  been 
associated;  and  Horace  Greeley  gave  it  in  print  as  his 
deep  conviction  that  "  her  Lady  Macbeth  has  never 
since  been  equalled." 

Joseph  N.  Ireland,  who  has  written  a  delightful  little 
biography  of  Mrs.  Duff,  attributes  her  failure  to  attain 
imperishable  fame  to  the  fact  that  she  rose  to  distinction 
and  popularity  in  Boston  and  Philadelphia  before  being 
introduced  to  the  stage  of  the  Metropolis.  New  York, 
a  century  ago,  insisted  upon  discovering  its  own  favour- 
ites. 

211 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  Like  London,"  Ireland  judicially  observes,  "  New 
York  can  sometimes  be  jealous  of  her  sister  cities,  and 
does  not  like  to  be  called  upon  to  worship  the  idol  of 
another  and  a  smaller  place;  and,  therefore,  though  crit- 
ical judgment  pronounced  Mrs.  Duff  worthy  of  the 
highest  praise,  the  public  —  with  honourable  exceptions 
—  finding  that  she  bore  no  foreign  endorsement,  looked 
upon  her  simply  as  the  favourite  of  a  provincial  town, 
and  did  not  greet  her  advent  with  that  generous  and 
enthusiastic  welcome  she  so  well  deserved.  The  few 
who  saw  her  were  charmed  with  her  personations,  but 
fashion  could  not  be  induced  to  interest  itself  in  her 
behalf,  or  to  crowd  the  house  when  her  name  was  first 
announced.  She  was  heartily  applauded  but  not  numer- 
ously followed;  and,  although  she  finally  won  her  way 
to  every  heart,  she  never  became  an  attraction  powerful 
enough  to  secure  a  permanent  engagement  in  New  York's 
leading  theatre." 

Since  nearly  all  this  woman's  remarkable  professional 
life  was  passed  in  America,  we  have  every  right  to  claim 
her  as  an  American  actress,  but  by  birth  she  was  English, 
having  first  seen  the  light  in  London  in  1794.  At  the  age 
of  fifteen  she  and  her  two  younger  sisters  became  at- 
tached to  the  Dublin  Theatre  in  the  capacity  of  dancers; 
all  three  were  singularly  sweet  and  charming  girls,  and 
on  an  occasion  when  the  gentleman  amateurs  of  Kil- 
kenny, following  the  fashion  of  the  time,  engaged  the 
ladies  from  the  Dublin  Theatre  to  assist  them  in  their 
annual  benefit  performance  for  the  poor  of  their  city, 
Moore,  the  Irish  poet,  met  and  fell  passionately  in  love 
with  Mary  Dyke.  But  since  she  did  not  return  this 
affection,  he  transferred  hisattentions  to  ElizabethDyke, 

212 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  second  sister,  whom  he  soon  after  married.  It  was 
Mary  Dyke's  rejection  of  the  poet's  suit  which  gave  rise 
to  the  celebrated  song, 

"  Mary,  I  believed  thee  true, 

And  I  was  blessed  in  thus  believing; 
But  now  I  mourn  that  e'er  I  knew 
A  girl  so  fair  and  so  deceiving,  — 
Fare  thee  well. 


"  Fare  thee  well.    I'll  think  of  thee; 

Thou  leav'st  me  many  a  bitter  token; 
For  see,  distracting  woman,  see, 

My  peace  is  gone,  my  heart  is  broken.  — 
Fare  thee  well." 

Whether  Mary  Dyke  really  was  as  "  deceiving  "  to 
Moore  as  he  here  poetically  asserts  we  shall  never  know. 
But  inasmuch  as  he  was  a  man  of  the  world  who  had 
already  attained  the  age  of  thirty  when  he  first  met  this 
child  of  fifteen,  and  inasmuch  as  he  comforted  himself  by 
marrying  the  younger  sister  quite  promptly,  we  may 
assume  that  his  heart  was  not  "  broken,"  save  in  a 
metaphorical  and  poetic  sense.  It  is  a  fact,  however,  that 
on  the  single  occasion  (in  1828)  when  this  sister  returned 
from  America  for  a  professional  engagement  in  England, 
Mrs.  Moore  did  not  come  near  her  but  sent  word  from  the 
fashionable  watering-place  where  she  was  then  staying 
that  it  would  not  be  convenient  for  them  to  meet. 

Yet  Mary  Dyke's  only  offence  against  Moore  had  been 
that  of  clinging,  in  spite  of  the  poet's  blandishments,  to 

213 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  man  for  whom  she  had  already  formed  an  attach- 
ment—  John  R.  Duff,  a  young  actor  then  connected 
with  the  Dublin  Theatre.  He  and  Moore  had  been 
classmates  in  Trinity  College.  Duff  has  been  described 
as  an  Apollo  in  person  and  as  a  Crichton  in  accomplish- 
ments. He  had  been  intended  for  the  bar,  but  the 
fascination  of  the  stage  overcame  him,  and  since  he 
showed  great  promise,  he  was  recommended  by  Cooper 
to  Messrs.  Powell  and  Dickson  of  the  theatre  in  Boston, 
by  whom  he  was  immediately  engaged.  Before  sailing 
for  America,  he  married  Mary  Dyke,  then  still  less  than 
sixteen. 

Thus,  when  she  made  her  debut  in  Boston,  December 
31, 1810,  as  Juliet,  Mrs.  Duff  was  really  at  an  age  and  in  a 
situation  to  appreciate  keenly  the  emotions  and  anxieties 
of  Capulet's  daughter.  At  this  time,  however,  she  made 
no  such  success  in  the  part  as  she  afterwards  attained. 
Her  next  appearance  was  on  January  3,  1811,  when  she 
acted  Lady  Anne  in  "  Richard  III  "  to  no  less  a  trage- 
dian than  George  Frederick  Cooke.  She  also  supported 
Mr.  Cooke  during  his  later  engagements;  and  on  Febru- 
ary 10,  1812,  she  played  Ophelia  to  the  Hamlet  of  John 
Howard  Payne,  who  was  then  in  the  height  of  his  popu- 
larity. 

Beginning  with  the  fall  of  1812,  the  Duffs  were  for  five 
years  in  the  company  of  Messrs.  Warren  and  Wood  of  the 
Philadelphia  and  Baltimore  theatres.  But  the  husband 
was  still  the  drawing  power,  Mrs.  Duff  being  only  a 
pretty  ingenue.  By  1817,  however,  when  she  was  again 
in  Boston  —  where  her  husband  had  become  associated 

214 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

with  Powell  and  Dickson  in  the  management  of  the 
Federal  Street  Theatre,  —  her  work  in  "  Macbeth  " 
attracted  the  favourable  attention  of  the  critics,  and 
when  she  played  Juliet,  in  February,  1818,  to  the  Romeo 
of  Cooper,  she  was  greeted  as  one  who  had  "  arrived." 
In  October,  1820,  Boston  theatre-goers  were  talking  of 
little  else  than  her  impersonation  of  the  heroine  in 
"  Jane  Shore/'  and  when,  on  the  thirteenth  of  this  same 
month,  she  gave  her  impassioned  representation  of 
Hermione  in  "  The  Distrest  Mother "  -  taken  from 
Racine's  "  Andromaque  "  -  she  fairly  electrified  her 
auditors.  Throwing  aside  all  tameness  and  restraint, 
she  now  showed  fully  the  fire  and  passion  that  had  long 
been  slumbering  in  her  soul.  For,  while  her  genius  had 
been  developing,  life  had  pressed  her  hard.  She  was 
never  free  from  the  care  of  a  young  and  growing  family 
(ten  children  in  all  were  born  to  her  during  her  profes- 
sional career)  and  it  was  very  likely  for  this  reason  that 
she  was  able  to  give  such  a  presentation  of  a  mother's 
love  and  tenderness  as  has  never  been  equalled  on  our 
stage. 

When  Mrs.  Duff  was  rehearsing  Hermione  for  the 
Orestes  of  Edmund  Kean,  the  visiting  star  requested  her 
to  play  with  less  force  and  intensity  or  her  acting  would 
throw  him  into  the  background.  She  said  she  must  play 
her  best;  and  she  did,  with  the  result  that  the  audience 
insisted,  that  night,  upon  giving  to  her  fully  half  of  the 
applause.  Kean  himself  was  so  impressed  by  her  power 
that  he  declared  her  the  superior  of  any  actress  on  the 
British  stage,  —  an  opinion  that  he  frequently  reiterated. 

215 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

The  Boston  Gazette,  in  reviewing  this  performance,  said: 
"  The  eye  of  fancy  almost  beheld  the  sacred  shade  of 
Racine  descending  from  above  to  proclaim  her  for  his 
own  resuscitated  Hermione."  And  it  added :  "  Those  who 
have  seen  Mrs.  Duff's  Ophelia  will  remember  it  through 
life.  Certain  it  is  she  has  the  power,  and  we  have  felt 
it,  to  consecrate  sorrow,  dignify  emotion  and  kindle  the 
imagination  as  well  as  to  awaken  the  sympathies." 
When  the  elder  Booth  played  Hamlet  to  Mrs.  Duff's 
Ophelia,  May  20,  1822,  he  was  so  astounded  by  her  acting 
that  he  declared  her  above  all  competition,  either  in 
Europe  or  America.  In  Philadelphia  as  well  as  in  Boston 
the  receipts  immediately  doubled  when  she  was  sup- 
porting Booth. 

But  though  the  critics  were  unanimous  in  high  praise 
of  her  powers,  the  New  York  dilettanti  insisted  upon 
regarding  it  as  a  piece  of  presumption  that  a  stock 
actress  from  the  Boston  and  Philadelphia  theatres  should 
have  dared  to  present  herself  as  a  star  on  the  Metropoli- 
tan stage.  In  consequence  many  of  them  avoided  the 
theatre  during  her  stay,  —  so  many  that  Price  and  Simp- 
son did  not  have  the  courage  to  engage  her  for  a  long 
season  at  the  Park  and  so  force  their  patrons  to  become 
acquainted  with  her  extraordinary  gifts.  A  year  or 
two  later,  while  playing  at  the  then  new  Bowery  Theatre, 
Mrs.  Duff  was  able  so  to  divert  the  Park's  patronage 
that  the  managers  must  have  deeply  regretted  their 
previous  lack  of  enterprise.  Mr.  Duff  was  with  his 
wife  during  her  Bowery  engagement;  but  that  he  had 
by  no  means  kept  pace  with  her  phenomenally  rapid 

216 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

advancement  is  very  clear  from  the  notices.  Conway  and 
Forrest  were  far  more  nearly  on  a  par  with  her  now.  She 
was  being  called  "  the  Mrs.  Siddons  of  the  American 
stage  "  -  and  a  London  engagement  for  her  was  being 
arranged. 

Because  of  the  prejudice  then  supposed  to  exist  in 
London  against  everything  American,  this  actress  was 
announced  as  "  From  the  Theatre  Royal,  Dublin " 
when,  on  March  3,  1828,  she  appeared  at  Drury  Lane  in 
the  tragedy  of  "  Isabella/'  with  Macready  playing 
Biron.  The  comments  of  the  London  press  were  very 
various.  One  paper  spoke  of  her  as  "  a  respectable  but 
not  a  remarkable  performer,"  while  another  declared 
"  her  eye  the  finest  since  the  time  of  Mrs.  Siddons  " 
and  prophesied  "  it  will  be  the  fault  of  the  management 
if  Mrs.  Duff  does  not  do  great  things  for  the  Drury  Lane 
Theatre.  There  is  no  actress  in  her  line  now  on  the 
London  stage  with  so  much  intellectual  energy."  The 
Gazette,  on  the  other  hand,  declared  "  her  fright  was  so 
excessive  as  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  forming  a 
decided  opinion  as  to  her  merits."  And  this  was  very 
likely  true.  To  appear  in  a  strange  theatre  (enormous 
in  size  and  designated  by  Mrs.  Siddons  herself  as  "  the 
wilderness " )  before  an  unfamiliar  audience  and  in 
another  land  proved  so  much  of  an  ordeal  that  the  ac- 
tress positively  suffered,  as  she  afterwards  confessed, 
from  stage  fright. 

This  first  London  appearance  made  her  ill.  And  soon 
after  her  second  appearance  (on  April  14),  she  and  her 
husband  suddenly  set  sail  for  home.  Stephen  Price,  then 

217 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

manager  of  the  Drury  Lane,  would  not  grant  her  the 
salary  Mr. Duff  thought  she  ought  to  have,  it  would  seem; 
so  for  the  two  nights  she  had  played  in  London  she  re- 
ceived —  nothing. 

In  America,  however,  her  success  was  unabated; 
even  New  York  tardily  came  to  appreciate  her.  When 
Horace  Greeley  saw  her  at  the  Richmond  Hill  Theatre, 
February,  1832,  as  Lady  Macbeth,  he  wrote  most  en- 
thusiastically of  her  talents,  and  later  he  kept  lamenting 
in  print  her  prolonged  absence  from  the  New  York 
stage,  saying  that  it  was  a  disgrace  to  the  dramatic 
taste  of  the  city  that  she  was  not  called  for  in  terms  too 
decided  to  be  misunderstood.  Mrs.  Duff,  in  fact,  seems 
to  have  been  the  only  actress  who  ever  made  a  lasting 
impression  upon  the  famous  editor.  In  "  Recollections 
of  a  Busy  Life  "  may  be  found  the  following  passage: 
"  At  Richmond  Hill  I  saw  her  personate  Lady  Macbeth 
better  than  it  has  since  been  done  in  this  city,  though  she 
played  for  thirty  dollars  per  week  and  others  have  since 
received  ten  times  that  amount  for  a  single  night.  I 
doubt  that  any  woman  has  since  played  in  our  city- 
and  I  am  thinking  of  Fanny  Kemble  —  who  was  the  su- 
perior of  Mrs.  Duff  in  a  wide  range  of  tragic  characters." 

No  less  than  one  hundred  and  thirty-eight  characters 
were  personated  by  Mrs.  Duff  during  a  period  of  nine 
months.  Where  is  the  actress  now  who  could  carry  such 
a  burden?  And  she  played  for  a  wretchedly  small  reward, 
too.  Moreover,  her  husband  had  died  in  1831,  and  she 
had  to  carry  alone,  as  best  she  could,  the  burden  of  her 
large  family.  No  wonder  the  poor  lady  became  tempo- 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

rarily  insane  from  so  much  work  and  worry.  But  after 
a  period  she  recovered  her  health,  played  in  various 
cities  outside  New  York  very  acceptably,  as  before,  and 
in  the  autumn  of  1835  was  engaged  to  give  a  season  at 
the  new  little  Franklin  Theatre,  Chatham  Square. 

This  was  the  climax  of  her  fame.  Every  night  the 
house  was  filled  to  overflowing  with  those  who,  if  per- 
haps not  the  most  fashionable  of  the  city's  theatre- 
goers, were  certainly  the  most  intelligent.  "  All  were 
spellbound  as  of  old.  Her  soul-subduing  voice  still 
melted  the  hearts  of  the  sternest  listeners,  and  caused 
the  tears  of  sympathy  to  moisten  many  a  man's  unwilling 
cheek.  Sorrow,  sickness  and  disappointment  had  not 
quelled  the  fire  of  genius  .  .  .  and  in  every  varying 
emotion  of  the  soul  Mrs.  Duff  was  still  the  pathetic, 
powerful,  brilliant  and  impassioned  actress  whose  mag- 
netic quality  aroused  the  enthusiasm  of  her  audiences 
and  sustained  their  interest  in  her  characters  unflagging 
to  the  end."  1 

Then,  quite  suddenly,  she  married  again,  the  man  of 
her  choice  being  Joel  G.  Seaver  of  New  Orleans.  This 
marriage  appears  to  have  been  consummated,  on  the 
lady's  part,  for  the  sake  of  escaping  the  pecuniary 
difficulties  which  threatened  to  overwhelm  her;  but 
Mr.  Seaver  —  or  Sevier,  as  he  found  it  to  his  advantage 
to  call  himself  when  practising  law  in  New  Orleans - 
apparently  made  his  wife  happy  in  retirement,  for  only 
occasionally,  and  then  for  charitable  purposes,  did  she 
again  tread  the  boards. 

1  "  Mrs.  Duff,"  by  J.  N.  Ireland,  p.  126. 
2I9 


The.  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Born  and  educated  a  Roman  Catholic,  she  now  became 
a  most  devout  and  zealous  communicant  of  the  Metho- 
dist communion  and  strove  in  every  possible  way  to 
forget  and  disassociate  herself  from  her  former  stage 
connection.  Once,  to  be  sure,  her  old  friend,  James  Rees 
of  Philadelphia,  sought  her  out  in  her  comfortable  home 
and  succeeded  in  arousing  her  to  pride  in  her  dramatic 
achievements.  But  only  momentarily.  "  'Tis  past 
now,"  she  said;  "  that  was  my  worldly  life;  the  present, 
and  I  hope  the  future,  my  heavenly  life." 

Yet  there  were  still  stormy  days  to  be  endured  before 
this  good  woman  attained  "  Heaven,  her  home."  In 
1854,  Mr.  Seaver's  political  opinions  having  rendered 
him  unpopular  in  New  Orleans,  they  quietly  left  that 
city,  ostensibly  for  Texas.  And  then  for  twenty  years 
old  friends  of  Mrs.  Seaver  could  get  no  trace  whatever 
of  her  —  nor  be  assured  of  her  decease.  Finally,  it  was 
discovered  that  she  had  been  living  in  New  York  all  the 
time,  at  the  home  of  her  youngest  daughter,  Madame 
Reillieux. 

Brilliant  company  often  assembled  here  and  talked  of 
plays  and  players,  little  dreaming  that  the  quiet  old 
lady  in  the  gray  silk  gown  and  cambric  cap,  whom  they 
sometimes  met  for  a  few  minutes,  was  the  former  fas- 
cinating actress  whose  remarkable  gift  for  tragedy  had 
been  highly  praised  by  all  the  leading  players  of  the 
day.  Madame  Reillieux  was  the  last  surviving  daughter 
and  as  she  died  before  her  mother,  no  notification  was 
sent  to  the  many  old  friends  of  the  famous  actress,  when 
she  herself  passed  away  September  5,  1857,  in  the  sixty- 

220 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

third  year  of  her  age.  Even  the  place  of  her  burial  was 
unknown  until  1874,  when  it  was  discovered  that  she 
lies  interred  with  this  beloved  daughter  in  a  single  name- 
less grave  in  Greenwood.  A  humble  stone,  bearing  the 
simple  inscription,  MOTHER  AND  GRANDMOTHER, 
is  all  that  marks  the  final  resting-place  of  this  greatest 
and  grandest  actress  of  her  day. 

Another  player  of  extraordinary  ability,  who  died 
in  obscurity  after  a  life  full  of  disappointment,  was  John 
Howard  Payne.  More  untrue  things  have  probably 
been  written  of  Payne  than  of  any  other  American,  - 
either  with  or  without  a  stage  background.  Yet  there 
is  one  very  interesting  episode  in  his  career  about  which 
the  public  at  large  knows  nothing  —  his  hopeless  love 
for  the  widow  of  Shelley,  who  at  this  time  was  herself 
enamoured,  it  would  appear,  with  the  whimsical  and 
fascinating  Washington  Irving. 

Payne  was  born  in  New  York,  June  9,  1791,  —  not  in 
Boston,  as  was  stated  on  the  inscription  which  for  many 
years  stood  over  his  temporary  grave  in  Tunis.  In 
Boston  he  received  his  early  schooling,  however,  and,  by 
seeing  in  the  shop  windows  pictures  of  the  celebrated 
Master  Betty,  became  fired  with  ambition  to  enter  upon 
a  stage  career.  Payne's  father  was  a  schoolmaster  and 
for  a  time  was  settled  at  East  Hampton,  Long  Island, 
where  he  married  John  Howard's  mother.  Thus  the 
lad,  though  city-bred,  had  authentic  early  associations 
with  a  "  lowly  cottage  "  and  with  "  birds  singing  gaily 
that  came  at  his  will,"  from  the  fact  that  his  holidays 

221 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

were  spent  at  his  grandparents'  home.  The  years  of 
disastrous  and  more  or  less  disillusionizing  stage  ex- 
periences which  intervened  did  not  succeed  in  effacing 
the  sweet  childhood  memories  through  which  he  has 
earned  immortality. 

A  fatally  precocious  youth,  possessed  of  very  remark- 
able beauty,  Payne  early  attracted  to  his  side  plenty  of 
influential  friends,  who  smoothed  for  him  the  path  to  an 
early  and  successful  debut.  Thus  he  was  only  seventeen, 
and  looked  much  younger,  when  he  made  his  first  bow 
to  the  public  as  an  actor  at  the  Park  Theatre,  New  York, 
February  24,  1809.  Dunlap,  who  was  present,  says  that 
"  the  applause  was  very  great.  Boy-actors  were  then  a 
novelty,  and  we  have  seen  none  since  that  equalled 
Master  Payne."  Very  extravagant  things  were  said  of 
the  young  actor,  a  special  New  York  correspondent 
sending  to  a  leading  Boston  paper  the  dictum  that  "  in 
force  of  genius  and  taste  in  belles  lettres  there  are  few 
actors  on  any  stage  that  can  claim  competition  with 
this  one."  The  public  seemed  of  similar  opinion,  for 
notwithstanding  a  heavy  snow-storm,  the  very  large 
sum,  for  those  days,  of  fourteen  hundred  dollars  was 
taken  in  at  the  Park  when  he  played  Romeo,  in  the  course 
of  this  first  engagement,  to  the  Juliet  of  Mrs.  Darley. 

In  Boston,  that  spring,  he  was  enormously  applauded 
for  his  work  as  Young  Norval  in  Holmes 's  "  Douglas  " 
and  for  his  impersonation  of  the  Prince  in  "  Hamlet." 
Similar  triumphs  greeted  him  in  Providence,  Phila- 
delphia, Baltimore,  and  Charleston;  as  well  as  again  in 
New  York,  when  he  played  with  George  Frederick 

222 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Cooke.  Then  he  went  to  England,  where  in  1813  he 
secured  an  engagement  at  Drury  Lane  through  the  good 
offices  of  Benjamin  West.  The  press  notices  were  very 
complimentary,  too  complimentary,  perhaps,  for  the 
young  man's  best  good.  Having  been  superlatively 
praised  for  effects  which  he  achieved  without  much  pre- 
liminary effort,  he  did  not  work  continuously,  as  a  suc- 
cessful actor  must.  And  when  the  wonder  of  his  pre- 
cocity had  worn  off,  he  was  discovered  to  be  really  not 
much  of  an  actor  after  all. 

Moreover,  he  had  now  become  interested  in  dramatic 
writing  as  a  result  of  a  friendship  formed  with  Talma  in 
Paris,  and  as  this  opened  a  new  field  of  labour  to  him,  his 
connection  with  the  stage  became  thenceforth  that  of  a 
poet  rather  than  a  player,  though  he  did  act  occasionally 
in  the  provinces  and  later,  for  his  own  benefit,  in  America. 
The  plays  which  Payne  either  wrote  or  translated  or 
adapted  number  more  than  sixty.  Yet  it  is  because  of  a 
song  in  his  opera,  "  Clari,  the  Maid  of  Milan,"  that  we 
remember  him  to-day.  This  song  has  had  a  more  uni- 
versal circulation  than  any  other  song  written  before 
or  since.  Upwards  of  one  hundred  thousand  copies  were 
issued  by  its  publisher  in  London  in  less  than  one  year 
after  its  publication,  the  profit  yielded  to  him  being  over 
two  thousand  guineas;  Payne  got  two  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds  for  a  batch  of  plays  of  which  "  Clari,"  in 
which  the  song  occurs,  was  one. 

Yet  Payne  was  never  forced  to  "  starve  in  a  garret," 
as  has  been  picturesquely  represented.  The  varied  and 
interesting  life  of  a  playwright-critic  and  man  about 

223 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

town  was  being  enjoyed  by  him  at  the  very  period  when 
he  is  supposed  to  have  been  sunk  in  gloom  and  penury. 
This  the  letters  to  Mrs.  Shelley  clearly  show.  This  inter- 
esting correspondence  *  began  late  in  1824,  Mrs.  Shelley 
being  then  not  quite  twenty-eight  years  old,  while  Payne 
was  six  years  older  —  one  year  older  than  Shelley  would 
have  been  had  he  lived.  Through  Payne  Mrs.  Shelley 
had  already  met  Irving  in  Paris,  where  the  two  Americans 
had  been  acting  as  partners  —  with  an  equal  share  in 
the  profits  —  in  the  adaptation  of  French  plays  to  the 
London  theatres.  Irving,  however,  had  then  gone  to 
Spain.  After  Payne  had  been  back  in  London  for  some 
time,  all  the  lady's  letters  to  the  author  of  "  Home  Sweet 
Home  "  were  sent  by  him  to  Irving,  with  a  note  saying 
that  he  (Payne)  had  discovered  that  Mrs.  Shelley  had 
been  cultivating  him  "  only  as  a  source  of  introduction  " 
to  Irving.  Poor  Payne,  in  this  long  letter  to  Irving,  ad- 
mits that  though  he  loves  in  vain,  he  loves  sincerely  the 
fascinating  widow  of  Shelley! 

When  Payne  returned  to  America,  early  in  the  summer 
of  1832,  a  benefit  was  offered  him  "  in  the  name  of  his 
native  city,  New  York;  "  on  this  occasion,  ladies  of 
fashion  sat  in  the  pit  (ordinarily  devoted  exclusively  to 
the  use  of  men  in  those  days)  and  paid  five  dollars  for  the 
privilege.  The  price  of  every  part  of  the  house,  indeed, 
was  raised  to  five  dollars,  excepting  the  gallery,  which 
was  fixed  at  one  dollar,  the  then  usual  box-price.  When 
it  is  added  that  the  house  was  filled  from  pit  to  dome,  it 

1  "  The  Romance  of  Mary  W.  Shelley,  John  Howard  Payne  and  Wash- 
ington Irving,"  Bibliophile  Society,  Boston,  1907. 

224 


/*- 


JOHN   HOWARD    PAYNE 

After  a  daguerreotype  by  Brady 

See  page  221 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

will  not  seem  so  strange  that  the  receipts  for  the  night 
were  over  seven  thousand  dollars.  For  this  "  great 
dramatic  festival  "  at  the  Park,  Forrest,  Charles  and 
Fanny  Kemble,  George  Barrett,  Cooper,  and  J.  W. 
Wallack,  among  others,  volunteered. 

The  failure  of  the  Boston  benefit  of  the  following 
spring  to  equal  anything  like  New  York's  record  in  re- 
ceipts was  very  likely  due  in  large  measure  to  the  fact 
that  a  pretty  poor  bill  was  offered  for  the  very  high 
prices  charged.1  In  New  Orleans,  where  Payne  was 
given  a  benefit  in  1835  at  the  Camp  Street  Theatre 
(Tyrone  Power  being  one  of  the  actors  of  the  occasion), 
the  receipts  were  $1006.50. 

This  New  Orleans  benefit  marks  Payne's  last  associa- 
tion with  the  drama  in  America.  He  subsequently  served 
his  country  as  an  intermediary  in  claim  settlements  with 
the  Indians,  and  from  1843  to  1845  and  again  from  1851 
until  his  death,  April  9,  1852,  as  consul  at  Tunis.  Nearly 
thirty  years  after  his  death  his  remains  were  carried  from 
Tunis  to  America,  through  the  friendly  offices  of  W.  W. 
Corcoran,  and  on  a  bright  day  of  March,  1883,  were 
deposited  in  Oak  Hill  Cemetery,  Washington,  as  the 
assembled  company  sang  together  the  immortal  lines 
of  "  Home  Sweet  Home." 

1  R.  B.  Forbes,  in  The  Critic  for  December,  1882,  describes  this  Boston 
fiasco  as  follows:  "  The  eventful  night  came.  In  the  second  row  ap- 
peared the  committee  and  their  families  and  friends  en  grand  tenue, 
modestly  giving  up  the  dress  circle  to  '  the  sovereign  people,'  who  were 
expected  by  thousands.  In  the  lower  part  of  the  house  appeared  about 
two  hundred  editors,  critics  and  boys  eating  peanuts.  Finally,  the  curtain 
rose  and  four  short  plays  were  enacted,  almost  in  pantomime,  as  no  sane 
man  could  be  expected  to  say  much  before  so  much  light  and  so  few  per- 
sons. .  .  .  This  benefit  was  forever  after  known  as  the  Festival  of  Pain." 

225 


CHAPTER  IX 

FORREST'S  ENEMY,  MACREADY,  AND  SOME  STARS  WHO 
CAME  AFTER  HIM 

THE  Macready  whose  coming  to  America  poor  Conway 
had  so  dreaded  opened  at  the  Park  Theatre,  New  York, 
as  Virginias,  October  2,  1826,  played  his  great  characters 
with  much  success  in  Boston,  Philadelphia,  and  several 
other  cities,  and  received  for  his  efforts  the  tidy  sum  of 
two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  a  night.  William  Charles 
Macready  was  an  actor  who  knew  his  commercial  value 
and  seldom  failed  to  get  it.  Forrest's  violent  disagree- 
ment with  Macready  and  the  riots  which  sprang  there- 
from are  an  old  story  to  readers  of  theatrical  memoirs, 
but  it  must  be  re- told  here  for  the  sake  of  record  and  com- 
pleteness. The  significant  thing  about  the  whole  episode 
seems  to  be  that  though  Forrest  was  thoroughly  wrong 
in  the  matter,  he,  rather  than  Macready,  gets  our  sym- 
pathy; there  was  something  so  outrageously  smug  and 
self-satisfied  about  this  snobbish  Englishman  who  de- 
spised his  profession! 

Moreover,  everything  except  the  approval  of  American 
audiences  had  gone  Macready 's  way!  The  son  of  a 
celebrated  county  manager,  he  had  had  a  very  good 
education;  and  when  a  decline  in  the  family  fortunes 

226 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

made  it  advisable  for  him  to  go  on  the  stage,  success 
there  came  quickly.  At  twenty-three  he  was  playing 
good  parts  at  Covent  Garden  for  a  salary  of  eighteen 
pounds  a  week,  and  the  Hazlitt  who  lampooned  poor 
Conway  was  praising  him  highly.  Opportunity  to 
travel  in  France  and  Italy  and  to  see  the  noted 
actors  of  both  countries  was  then  his;  after  which  he 
made  an  advantageous  marriage  and  set  out  to  conquer 
America. 

America  duly  conquered,  Macready  returned  to 
England  and  was  soon  making  an  artistic,  if  not  pecuni- 
ary, success  of  an  English  company  which  (in  1828)  he 
took  over  to  Paris.  Then  he  became  manager  of  the 
Covent  Garden  Theatre  and  proceeded  to  produce  many 
of  the  original  plays  with  which  his  fame  is  identified. 
When  he  made  his  second  visit  to  America,  in  1843,  he 
was  manager  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre.  This  time  he 
stayed  with  us  over  a  year,  and  while  in  New  York  was 
the  guest  of  the  Forrests. 

Macready's  third  and  last  American  engagement  be- 
gan in  September,  1848.  His  career  was  now,  at  any 
rate,  to  be  marked  by  thunder-clouds,  as  he  very  soon 
discovered.  For  the  idol  of  the  American  "  People," 
Edwin  Forrest,  had  not  been  given  a  fair  hearing  in 
London,  and  Philadelphia,  the  city  of  Forrest's  birth, 
promptly  let  Macready  know  that  he  was  held  responsible 
for  this.  When  he  performed  "  Macbeth  "  he  had  to  do 
it  almost  in  dumb  show,  amidst  occasional  showers  of 
nuts  and  rotten  eggs;  but  he  played  through  the  part 
and  at  the  end  addressed  the  audience,  pledging  his 

227 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

sacred  word  of  honour  that  he  had  never  shown  any 
hostility  to  "an  American  actor."  This  called  forth  a 
public  letter  from  Forrest,  in  which  he  confessed  boast- 
fully to  having  hissed  Macready  at  Edinburgh  but  de- 
nied any  part  in  the  organized  opposition  which  had  been 
shown  the  visitor;  he  added,  with  superfluous  offensive- 
ness,  that  his  advice  had  been  to  let  "  the  superannuated 
driveller  alone."  In  New  York  Macready  was  again  the 
victim  of  a  conspiracy,  one  of  his  staff,  Mr.  John  Ryder, 
having  been  offered,  as  was  later  shown,  a  large  bribe 
to  come  forward  and  swear  falsely  that  Macready  had 
conspired  to  render  Forrest  a  failure  in  England.  Of 
course  the  offer  was  indignantly  refused.  All  the  better- 
class  opinion  of  New  York  was  with  the  visiting  star;  but, 
none  the  less,  rowdyism  prevailed. 

A  plan  for  hissing  Macready  from  the  stage,  upon  his 
appearance  in  New  York,  had  been  submitted  to  For- 
rest. The  latter  refused,  of  course,  to  countenance  the 
conspiracy.  But  this  did  not  prevent  the  theatre  from 
being  crowded  with  the  Englishman's  enemies  when,  on 
May  7,  1849,  he  began  his  engagement  at  the  Astor 
Place  Opera  House.  The  play  was  obliged  to  proceed 
amid  a  tumult  of  yells  and  hisses,  and  at  the  end  of  the 
third  act  the  performance  stopped,  and  the  visiting 
star  returned  to  his  hotel.  His  desire  was  to  set  sail 
at  once  for  England,  but  in  response  to  the  urgent  wishes 
of  his  friends  he  agreed  to  make  one  more  attempt  to 
play,  and  on  May  10  "  Macbeth  "  was  advertised. 

Upon  the  opening  of  the  doors  that  night,  the  theatre 
filled  almost  instantly  with  people  who  were  favourable 

228 


WILLIAM   C.    MACREADY 
See  page  226 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

to  the  actor,  nearly  all  the  others  being  excluded;  but 
Macready's  enemies  did  not  by  any  means  go  quietly 
home.  Instead  they  filled  the  streets  and  waited  for 
the  most  favourable  moment  to  precipitate  their  at- 
tack. That  moment  soon  came  outside  the  theatre,  as 
it  had  already  come  inside.  Stones  were  hurled  against 
windows  of  the  building,  smashing  them  to  atoms,  and 
at  one  time  it  seemed  as  if  the  destruction  of  the  entire 
edifice  was  inevitable.  Macready  himself  barely  es- 
caped with  his  life  by  being  hurried  out  of  the  front  door 
in  disguise  and  helped  to  make  his  way  through  the 
crowd.  Meanwhile  the  militia  had  been  called  out,  and 
when  orders  to  disperse  had  been  greeted  by  the  angry 
crowd  with  yells  and  hoots  of  derision,  the  soldiers  were 
bidden  to  close  their  columns  and  fire.  The  result  was 
that  one  hundred  and  thirty-four  rioters  were  killed 
outright,  and  over  a  hundred  wounded;  while  the  re- 
mainder of  the  now-sobered  mob  dispersed  into  the 
darkness. 

It  is  a  pity  that  so  disgraceful  an  occurrence  must 
needs  be  chronicled  at  all,  and  I  have  purposely  made 
my  account  as  brief  as  possible.  Those  who  desire  to 
see  the  episode  set  forth  categorically  are  referred  to  the 
pages  of  Macready's  "  Diary." 

As  an  antidote  to  the  stiffness  of  Macready,  I  may 
very  well  insert  here  a  little  sketch  of  Celeste,  the  first 
dancer  to  win  lasting  enthusiasm  in  America.  The 
dancers,  of  which  there  were  several  at  this  period,  were 
wont  to  come  on  after  the  main  offering  of  the  evening. 
Thus  it  was  that  Mile.  Celeste  made  her  first  appearance 

229 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

in  America  at  the  Bowery  Theatre,  following  a  perform- 
ance of  "  School  for  Scandal,"  on  June  27,  1827,  in 
which  Mrs.  Charles  Gilfert,  the  wife  of  the  manager,  had 
acted  Lady  Teazle.  Celeste  is  said  to  have  been  born  in 
Paris,  August  6,  1814,  where  at  a  very  early  age  she  was 
placed  in  the  Conservatoire  as  a  pupil.  While  still  a 
child,  she  appeared  with  Talma,  the  greatest  of  French 
tragedians;  she  still  looked  to  be  only  a  child  when  she 
made  her  debut  in  New  York.  Her  grace  and  beauty 
attracted  universal  admiration  and  won  for  her  the  hand 
of  Mr.  Elliott,  an  American  gentleman,  to  whom  she 
was  married  in  1828,  and  by  whom  she  became  the 
mother  of  an  only  daughter. 

After  dancing  with  success  in  the  principal  theatres 
of  this  country,  she  sailed  from  New  Orleans  for  England, 
where  she  made  many  profitable  appearances  in  the 
provinces,  previous  to  coming  out  in  London  as  Mathilde 
in  "  The  French  Spy."  France,  Italy,  and  Germany 
subsequently  welcomed  her  in  this  role  —  as  did  also 
New  York  on  November  17,  1834.  Then  began  an 
American  tour  which  lasted  for  three  years,  during  which 
she  is  said  to  have  netted  two  hundred  thousand1  dollars. 
She  came  over  here  for  a  third  visit  in  1838,  was  with  us 
again  in  1840,  once  again  in  the  fall  of  185 1,1  and  finally 
and  rather  unexpectedly,  —  for  thirteen  years  had  now 
elapsed  since  her  last  visit  —  in  1865.  It  was  rumoured 
that  her  farewell  American  tour  was  made  necessary 

1  She  then  played,  while  in  Boston,  at  the  old  National  Theatre,  on 
Portland  Street,  and  was  billed,  at  her  request,  as  may  be  seen  from  an 
autograph  letter  to  the  manager  now  preserved  in  the  Boston  Public 
Library,  as  "  Directress  of  the  Theatre  Royal  Adelphi,  London." 

230 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

by  unfortunate  investments  which  had  seriously  im- 
paired her  hitherto  ample  fortune. 

In  her  prime,  Celeste  was  a  very  beautiful  creature, 
with  a  handsome  face,  eloquent  dark  eyes,  and  a  face 
which  was  expressive  beyond  that  of  any  actress  of  her 
time.  Her  every  movement,  too,  was  full  of  grace  and 
charm. 

"  The  power,  pathos  and  effect  of  her  pantomimic 
acting  have  never  been  approached,"  says  Ireland, 
"  while  her  assumptions  of  male  attire  and  heroic  char- 
acter were  marvellous  exhibitions  of  daring  ambition 
and  successful  achievement.  Her  success  in  America 
has  been  equalled  among  women  only  by  Fanny  Kemble 
and  Jenny  Lind,1  and  among  the  multitude  she  was  un- 
doubtedly the  most  popular  of  the  trio.  On  her  last  ap- 
pearance, her  face  indicated  the  ravages  of  time  by  an 
increased  sharpness  of  feature,  and  her  whole  person 
seemed  emaciated;  but  her  powers  as  an  actress  were 
in  no  wise  diminished." 

If  Celeste  looked  to  be  only  a  child,  when  she  came  to 
us  first,  Master  Joseph  Burke,  generally  known  as  "  the 
celebrated  Irish  Roscius,"  actually  was  a  child.  He 
made  his  first  appearance  in  America,  October.  22,  1830, 
at  the  Park  Theatre,  New  York,  as  Young  Norval.  His 
success  was  of  the  most  decided  character,  his  nine 
nights  of  performance  attracting,  Ireland  tells  us: 

1  Fanny  Ellsler,  who  in  the  forties  of  the  last  century  made  a  tremen- 
dous success  here  as  a  dancer,  does  not  properly  come  within  the  scope  of 
this  book.  Nor  does  Jenny  Lind,  whom  Barnum  featured  as  "  The 
Swedish  Nightingale  "  in  1850.  Both  are,  however,  pictured  and  de- 
scribed in  my  "  Romantic  Days  in  Old  Boston." 

23I 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  Houses  averaging  twelve  hundred  dollars  each.  As 
a  prodigy,  in  both  music  and  the  drama,  he  has  been 
unapproached  by  any  child  who  has  trodden  the  Ameri- 
can stage,  though  we  are  assured  that  he  was  inferior 
to  Clara  Fisher  at  the  same  early  age.  His  readings 
were  always  discriminating  and  forcible.  .  .  .  His  per- 
formance of  Richard,  Shylock,  and  Sir  Giles  was  so 
good  that  none  sneered  at  the  absurdity  of  a  child 
assuming  such  parts;  while  his  comedy,  especially  in 
Irish  parts,  was  so  full  of  native,  genuine  humour, 
that  he  never  failed  to  convulse  his  audience  with 
laughter." 

Young  Burke  was  the  son  of  a  Dublin  physician  of 
good  family,  and  at  the  age  of  five  had  appeared  on  the 
boards  of  the  Dublin  Theatre  Royal.  His  success  at 
this  time  was  so  great  that  all  the  leading  theatres  of 
England  were  opened  to  him  at  once.  Then  he  came  to 
America,  where  he  was  similarly  the  rage.  But  his 
popularity  waned  in  time,  as  it  was  bound  to  do,  his  last 
successful  theatrical  appearance  being  at  Wallack's 
National  in  January,  1839.  A  period  of  thorough  study 
of  the  violin  followed,  after  which  he  reappeared  with 
Jenny  Lind. 

Christopher  Columbus  Baldwin  of  Worcester  has  an 
interesting  reference  in  his  "  Diary  "  to  the  talents  and 
drawing  power  of  Master  Burke. 

"  He  is  now  12  years  of  age  and  is  the  most  famous 
actor  on  any  American  stage.  He  is  about  the  common 
size  of  a  boy  of  12  years,  trim,  well  built,  with  light  hair 
and  black  eyes,  and  rather  a  pleasant  looking  lad.  There 

232 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

is  nothing  in  his  phrenology  that  indicates  such  talents 
as  he  undoubtedly  possesses.  He  is  very  pleasant  as 
an  actor  and  has  none  of  those  indescribable  faults  which 
so  many  have,  such  as  attempting  to  change  their  voice 
or  countenance  and  worst  of  all  their  gait  without  con- 
cealing the  great  agony  they  are  put  into  in  doing  it.  I 
went  to  see  him  four  nights  successively.  I  became 
tired  of  him  on  the  last  night,  and  concluded  him  to 
be  a  boy  after  all.  There  were  good  houses  each 
night." 

Master  Burke  at  this  time  played  for  two  weeks  in 
Boston  in  the  following  plays:  "  Speed  the  Plough," 
"  Merchant  of  Venice,"  "  Man  and  Wife,"  "  Richard 
III,"  "Romeo  and  Juliet,"  "Hamlet,"  "Heir  at 
Law,"  "  Poor  Gentleman,"  "  Paul  Pry,"  "  John  Bull," 
"  Douglas,"  "  West  Indian."  He  was  also  leader  of 
the  orchestra  and  took  as  many  as  six  parts  in  one 
farce. 

For  Charles  and  Fanny  Kemble,  when  they  came  to 
our  shores  in  1832,  New  York  had  only  the  most  raptur- 
ous of  welcomes.  Ireland  records  that  "  the  sensation 
created  by  the  appearance  of  Mr.  and  Miss  Kemble  had 
been  equalled  in  kind  only  in  the  days  of  Cooke  and 
Kean,  and  in  duration  and  intensity  was  altogether  un- 
paralleled." One  of  Kemble's  sisters,  Mrs.  Whitelock, 
had  long  been  highly  esteemed  in  the  United  States, 
and  of  his  famous  brother,  John  Philip  Kemble  and 
his  superlatively  gifted  sister,  Mrs.  Siddons,  New  York 
theatre-goers  had  been  hearing  enthusiastic  accounts 
for  nearly  half  a  century.  Thus  it  was,  in  part  at  least, 
because  of  what  they  represented  in  the  way  of  inherited 

233 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

stage  tradition  l  that  New  York  "  rose  "  to  the  Kembles. 
Let  us,  therefore,  trace  briefly  their  history  as  a  family. 

Old  Roger  Kemble,  the  first  of  the  line  of  which  we 
need  take  notice,  had  been  a  stroller  in  early  life  and 
was  later  a  struggling  manager.  Yet,  though  he  was 
accorded  little  more  distinction  by  his  contemporaries 
than  if  he  had  been  the  proprietor  of  a  Punch  and  Judy 
show,  Roger  Kemble  was  a  gentleman  in  instinct  and 
bearing,  and  the  plays  which  he  produced  were  usually 
those  written  by  William  Shakespeare.  He  had  several 
children  —  all  players  —  who  became  famous  in  the 
following  order  of  greatness,  Mrs.  Siddons,  John  Philip, 
and  Charles. 

John  Philip  his  father  intended  for  the  priesthood,  and 
so  he  received  a  classical  education.  But  the  stage 
beckoned,  and  he  responded  with  alacrity  —  the  more 
so  since  his  sister,  Sarah,  had  already  attained  success 
on  the  boards.  He  made  his  first  appearance  in  London, 
on  September  30, 1783,  as  Hamlet,  and  though  the  critics 
would  not  admit  that  his  performances  were  "  equal  in 
effect  to  those  of  Mrs.  Siddons,"  he  soon  became  the 
leading  actor  of  his  era,  holding  that  distinction  until, 
towards  the  end  of  his  career,  his  supremacy  was  chal- 
lenged by  Edmund  Kean.  Hazlitt  was  only  expressing 

1  Charles  Kemble  and  his  daughter  were  both  deeply  conscious  that 
their  acting  gift  was  a  family  possession,  l  Once,  when  they  were  playing 
in  Baltimore,  they  came,  in  the  course  of  a  stroll  about  the  town,  to  a 
print-shop  in  whose  window  was  being  exhibited  an  engraving  of  Reyn- 
olds's  Mrs.  Siddons  as  "  The  Tragic  Muse,"  and  Lawrence's  picture  of 
John  Kemble  in  Hamlet.  "  We  stopped  before  them,"  writes  Fanny, 
"  and  my  father  looked  with  a  great  deal  of  emotion  at  these  beautiful 
representations  of  his  beautiful  kindred  in  this  other  world." 

234 


FRANCES    ANNE    KEMBLE 

From  the  painting  by  Thomas  Sully,  made  in  1832,  in  the  possession  of  the  Boston  Museum 

of  Fine  Arts 
See  page  238 


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11 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  opinion  of  all  playgoers  of  his  time  when  he  wrote: 
"  We  feel  more  respect  for  John  Kemble  in  a  plain  coat 
than  for  the  Lord  Chancellor  on  the  woolsack."  Charles 
Lamb  went  so  far  as  to  declare  that  "  it  was  difficult 
for  a  frequent  playgoer  to  disencumber  the  idea  of  Ham- 
let from  the  person  of  John  Kemble,"  and  Matthew 
Arnold,  after  seeing  many  other  Hamlets,  asserted  that, 
"  in  spite  of  his  limitations,  John  Philip  Kemble  was  the 
best  Hamlet  after  all,"  Macready  wanting  "  person," 
Charles  Kean,  "  mind,"  Fechter  "  English,"  and  Wilson 
Barrett  "  elocution."  Kemble  had  a  fine  sense  of  his 
own  greatness,  too.  Samuel  Rogers  declares  that  when 
the  actor  was  living  at  Lausanne,  towards  the  end  of  his 
life,  he  used  to  feel  rather  jealous  of  Mont  Blanc;  he 
disliked  hearing  people  always  asking:  "  How  does 
Mont  Blanc  look  this  morning?  " 

The  transcendently  great  member  of  the  Kemble 
family  was,  however,  John  Philip's  sister,  who  in  1773 
married  Henry  Siddons,  a  well-meaning  actor  who  was, 
also,  a  gentleman.  Not  long  afterwards,  Mrs.  Siddons 
attracted  the  favourable  attention  of  the  gifted  and 
powerful  David  Garrick,  but  at  this  stage  of  her  career 
she  did  not  make  a  success  in  London,  inasmuch  as  she 
had  not  yet  arrived  at  the  maturity  of  her  powers.  There 
intervened,  indeed,  several  seasons  of  laborious  touring 
in  the  provinces,  succeeded  by  four  seasons  at  Bath  at 
the  modest  sum  of  £3  weekly.  Here  her  work  so  steadily 
grew  in  power  that  Sheridan  made  her  an  offer  to  come 
to  Drury  Lane  and  —  to  the  great  dismay  of  her  Bath 
admirers  —  she  determined  to  accept  the  invitation. 

235 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

The  simplicity  of  the  times  is  illustrated  by  the  fact 
that,  after  advertising  that  she  would  show  to  the  Bath 
people  "  Three  Reasons  "  why  she  must  seek  the  larger 
field,  she  trotted  out  to  the  edge  of  the  stage,  at  the  end 
of  her  farewell  performance,  her  three  children,  Henry, 
Sarah  and  Maria,  and  proceeded  to  declare  in  lines  of 
her  own  composition: 

"  These  are  the  moles  that  bear  me  from  your  side, 
Where  I  was  rooted  —  where  I  could  have  died. 
Stand  forth,  ye  elves,  and  plead  your  mother's  cause: 
Ye  little  magnets,  whose  soft  influence  draws 
Me  from  a  point  where  every  gentle  breeze 
Wafted  my  bark  to  happiness  and  ease  — 
Sends  me  adventurous  on  a  larger  main, 
In  hopes  that  you  may  profit  by  my  gain." 

Mrs.  Siddons  never  possessed  the  slightest  sense  of 
humour.  Off  the  stage,  as  well  as  on  —  and  in  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds's  great  picture  —  she  was  "  The  Tragic 
Muse."  So  thoroughly  a  part  of  her  profession  was  she 
that  even  her  table-talk  often  flowed  into  blank  verse! 

From  the  time  of  her  reappearance  at  Drury  Lane 
(October  10,  1782)  Mrs.  Siddons  was  for  thirty  years  at 
the  head  of  her  profession.  A  critic  of  our  own  time, 
Brander  Matthews,  declares  that  she  was  "  probably 
the  greatest  actress  the  world  has  ever  seen;  "  the  critics 
of  her  time  made  the  same  assertion  stripped  of  any 
qualifications  whatever.  She  was  not  only  Queen  of 
Tragedy  throughout  this  period,  but  Queen  of  London 
as  well;  good,  stupid  Charlotte  created  nothing  like  the 

236 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

interest  that  "  the  Siddons  "  did.  Her  greatest  part, 
in  the  opinion  of  many,  was  Lady  Macbeth,  in  which  the 
celebrated  Mrs.  Pritchard  had  made  a  great  success. 
Mrs.  Pritchard,  to  be  sure,  had  never  read  the  play 
through  l  and  was  wont  to  act  the  ambitious  queen 
decked  out  in  hooped  petticoat  and  powdered  hair. 
The  Malcolm  of  the  "  Macbeth "  in  which  Mrs. 
Siddons  was  the  queen  and  John  Philip  Kemble  the 
Thane  of  Cawdor  was  likely  to  be  Charles  Kemble, 
eleventh  child  of  Roger  Kemble  and  of  his  wife.  Like 
his  eldest  brother,  Charles  received  a  good  education, 
the  profession  for  which  old  Roger  intended  him  being 
that  of  the  civil  service.  He  received,  and  for  a  time 
held,  a  post-office  appointment.  But  soon  he,  too, 
drifted  to  the  stage,  making,  after  his  rough  edges  had 
worn  off,  the  most  gifted  and  graceful  of  Romeo's  and 
a  Charles  Surface  of  such  fascination  as  London  had 
never  seen  before.  In  1803  he  left  Drury  Lane  and  went 
with  the  other  members  of  his  family  to  Covent  Garden, 
in  which  John  Kemble  had  bought  a  share.  And  when 
the  great  John  retired  he  presented  to  Charles  this 
interest  of  his.  Unfortunately,  however,  Charles  Kemble 
was  nothing  at  all  of  a  manager,  and  profits  at  the  fa- 
mous house  began  steadily  to  decline.  After  many  years 

1  "  Sir,"  said  Dr.  Johnson  to  Boswell,  in  explanation  of  the  mechan- 
ical manner  in  which  Mrs.  Pritchard  played  this  character,  "  she  had 
never  read  the  tragedy  of '  Macbeth  '  through.  She  had  no  more  thought 
of  the  play  out  of  which  her  part  was  taken  than  a  shoemaker  thinks  of 
the  skin  out  of  which  the  piece  of  leather  of  which  he  is  making  a  pair 
of  shoes  is  cut."  Mrs.  Pritchard  herself  admitted  to  a  friend,  who 
supped  with  her  one  night  after  she  had  been  acting  Lady  Macbeth, 
that  she  had  never  perused  the  whole  tragedy! 

237 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

of  hard  work,  he  one  day  found  himself  on  the  verge  of 
bankruptcy. 

It  was  then  that  Fanny  Kemble  came  to  the  front, 
her  one  and  only  object  in  going  on  the  stage  being 
to  save  her  family  from  the  ruin  that  threatened.  For, 
in  spite  of  her  dramatic  temperament  and  her  very 
great  gift  as  an  actress,  Frances  Ann  Kemble  (born  in 
London,  November  27,  1809)  always  professed  contempt 
for  the  profession  of  acting.  That  she  had  marked  liter- 
ary gifts  one  cannot  read  her  charming  books  and  deny. 
But  she  was  a  fine  actress,  also  —  even  if  she  did  not 
love  the  stage.  In  appearance  she  strongly  resembled 
her  beautiful  aunt,  though  it  was  cleverly  remarked  that 
she  "  looked  like  Mrs.  Siddons  seen  through  the  dimin- 
ishing end  of  an  opera-glass." 

Though  it  was  for  the  purpose  of  averting  a  family 
crisis  that  this  charming  young  person  had  gone  on  the 
stage,  once  launched,  she  acquitted  herself  in  a  way  that 
did  no  violence  to  the  family  reputation.  The  part 
chosen  for  her  debut  (which  was  very  successful)  was 
that  of  Juliet,  and  her  mother,  an  excellent  actress,  was 
the  nurse.  That  night  Charles  Kemble  presented  his 
daughter  with  a  lovely  Geneva  watch,  which  she 
promptly  christened  "  Romeo  "  and  tucked  carefully 
under  her  pillow  before  going  to  sleep. 

Juliet  for  a  hundred  and  twenty  nights  at  a  salary  of 
thirty  guineas  a  week  now  followed;  and  several  other 
parts,  too,  were  acted  in  London  with  success  before 
father  and  daughter  set  out,  in  the  summer  of  1832,  to 
further  mend  their  fortunes  in  America.  Fanny  made  her 

238 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

debut  at  the  Park  Theatre  in  New  York  as  Bianca  in 
"  Fazio."  "  Her  triumph  here  was  complete,"  declares 
Mr.  Ireland;  "  as  she  was  the  acknowledged  Queen  of 
Tragedy  from  Boston  to  New  Orleans,  without  a  rival 
near  her  throne."  The  contemporary  criticism  is  no  less 
enthusiastic.  In  the  New  York  Mirror  of  September  22, 
1832,  I  find: 

"  Miss  Fanny  Kemble  did  not  disappoint  expecta- 
tion. Of  higher  praise  she  cannot  be  ambitious  for  never 
was  expectation  raised  to  such  a  pitch.  ...  It  is  exhila- 
rating to  behold,  in  a  young  country  like  ours,  so  true  a 
feeling  for  all  that  is  most  exquisite  in  art.  We  doubt  if 
London  could  give  her  a  welcome  more  earnest,  or  ap- 
plause more  enlightened.  Her  person  is  petite,  but  our 
stage  is  not  so  large  as  to  make  that  objectionable.  Her 
acting  is  most  easy  and  elegant,  with  more  of  the  French 
than^the  English  manner  in  it;  and  perfectly  original  in 
our  eyes,  accustomed  as  they  are  to  something  more 
staid  and  homely.  They  say  that  Madame  Vestris,  in 
England,  is  distinguished  for  having  built  her  action 
upon  a  similar  school;  but  we  are  strangers  to  Vestris, 
and  were  she  all  that  her  most  earnest  admirers  picture, 
she  could  not  exceed,  even  if  she  equal,  the  grace  and 
deep  power  of  Fanny  Kemble." 

Nor  did  Charles  Kemble 's  work  fail  of  praise.  In 
this  same  notice  the  critic  tells  a  story  about  "  a  raw 
countryman  who  bustled  into  the  theatre,"  and  standing 
near  his  side,  exclaimed,  "  wiping  his  brow  with  one 
hand  as  he  pointed  to  Kemble  with  the  other,  '  That's 
the  prince!  '  Charles  Kemble  was  every  inch  a  king  in 
his  appearance,  the  beau  ideal  of  poets  and  romancers." 

239 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

He  could  even  carry  his  audience  with  him  when  he 
played  Romeo  to  his  daughter's  Juliet,  as  he  was  forced 
to  do  early  in  his  New  York  engagement ! 

The  quiet  power  of  the  Kembles'  acting  was  a  good 
deal  of  a  surprise  to  New  Yorkers,  and  it  was  distinctly 
to  their  credit  that  they  appreciated  duly  the  fine  artistry 
of  these  newcomers.  Even  Fanny  had  her  doubts,  at 
the  very  first,  as  to  the  degree  of  success  they  had 
made. 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  she  wrote  Mrs.  Jameson,  "  that  our 
acting  is  not  rather  too  quiet  —  tame,  I  suppose  they 
would  call  it  —  for  our  present  public.  Ranting  and 
raving  in  tragedy  and  shrieks  of  unmeaning  laughter 
in  comedy,  are  not,  you  know,  precisely  our  style,  and 
I  am  afraid  our  audience  here  may  think  us  flat.  .  .  . 
One  gentleman  observed  to  another,  after  seeing  my 
father  in  'Venice  Preserved,'  '  Lord  bless  you!  it's 
nothing  to  Cooper's  acting  —  nothing!  Why,  I've  seen 
the  perspiration  roll  down  his  face  like  water  when  he 
played  Pierre!  You  didn't  see  Mr.  Kemble  put  himself 
to  half  such  pains! '  " 

There  is  more  about  New  York  than  about  the  theatre 
in  these  first  letters  sent  back  by  Fanny  to  her  friends 
on  the  other  side.  She  gives  devout  thanks  that  "  baths 
are  a  much  cheaper  and  commoner  luxury  in  the  hotels 
here  than  with  us;  a  great  satisfaction  to  me,  who  hope 
in  heaven,  if  I  ever  get  there,  to  have  plenty  of  water  to 
wash  in, and, of  course,  it  will  all  be  soft  rain-water  there." 
Again,  she  comments  on  the  joy  with  which  the  "  sons 
of  the  gentlemen  who  are  volunteer  engineers  and  fire- 

240 


Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

men  respond  to  the  firecalls,  tearing  up  and  down  the 
streets  accompanied  by  red  lights,  speaking  trumpets,  and 
a  rushing,  roaring  escort  of  running  amateur  extinguish- 
ers, who  make  nights  hideous  with  their  bawling  and 
bellowing."  Also,  she  notes  with  surprise  the  fact  that 
"Dr.  Wainwright,  rector  of  the  '  most  fashionable  ' 
church  in  New  York,  a  very  agreeable,  good  and  clever 
man,  expressed  great  delight  at  having  an  opportunity 
to  meet  us  in  private,  as  his  congregation  are  so  strait- 
laced  that  he  can  neither  call  upon  us  nor  invite  us  to 
his  house,  much  less  set  his  foot  in  the  theatre." 

The  Kembles  first  visited  Philadelphia  in  the  autumn 
of  1832  and  were  very  cordially  received.  They  found 
much  to  like  in  the  place  as  well  as  in  the  people.  "  It 
has  altogether  a  rather  dull  sober,  mellow  hue,"  wrote 
Fanny,  "  which  is  more  agreeable  than  the  glaring  new- 
ness of  New  York.  There  are  one  or  two  fine  public 
buildings,  and  the  quantity  of  clean,  cool-looking,  white 
marble  which  they  use  both  for  their  public  edifices  and 
for  the  door-steps  of  the  private  houses  has  a  simple  and 
sumptuous  appearance  which  is  pleasant."  One  very 
pretty  incident  she  related  of  her  Aunt  D all's  going  into 
a  Quaker  shop  to  make  a  purchase,  and  of  the  master 
saying  to  her:  "  And  how  doth  Fanny?  I  was  in  hopes 
she  might  have  wanted  something;  we  should  have  great 
pleasure  in  attending  upon  her."  So  the  next  day 
"  Fanny  "  went  thither  and  bought  herself  "  a  lovely, 
sober-coloured  gown." 

Yet  it  was  from  the  Philadelphia  which  had  received 
her  thus  cordially  that  this  child  of  a  famous  actor- 

241 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

family  sent  home  to  a  friend  one  of  her  most  passionate 
outbreaks  against  the  stage: 

"  It  is  very  well  that  our  audiences  should  look  at  us  as 
mere  puppets,  for  could  they  sometimes  see  the  real 
feelings  of  those  for  whose  false  miseries  their  sympa- 
thies are  excited,  I  believe  sufficiently  in  their  humanity 
to  think  they  would  kindly  give  us  leave  to  go  off  and 
go  home.  Ours  is  a  very  strange  trade  and  I  am  sorry 
to  say  that  every  day  increases  my  distaste  for  it.  ... 
I  do  not  think  that,  during  my  father's  life,  I  shall  ever 
leave  the  stage;  it  is  very  selfish  to  feel  regret  at  this,  I 
know,  but  it  sometimes  seems  to  me  rather  dreary  to 
look  along  my  future  years,  and  think  that  they  will  be 
devoted  to  labour  that  I  dislike  and  despise." 

It  was  also  in  Philadelphia  that  Fanny  Kemble  met 
and  married  Pierce  Butler,  following  which  event  she 
retired  from  the  stage  for  about  ten  years.  Some  of 
these  years  she  passed  with  her  husband  on  his  Georgia 
plantation  —  growing  all  the  while  more  and  more 
inclined  to  take  the  side  of  the  Abolitionists  as  against 
that  of  the  slave-holders,  of  whom  he  was  one.  That 
her  sympathies  had  long  been  with  the  oppressed  blacks 
we  have  only  to  read  her  girlish  letters  to  under- 
stand. 

Fanny  Kemble  was  still  a  care-free  girl,  however, 
when,  in  the  spring  of  1833,  she  was  the  "  star  "  of  the 
hour  in  Boston  and,  from  her  rooms  in  the  Tremont 
House,  was  able  to  witness  the  edifying  spectacle  of 
crowds  gathering  at  the  theatre  doors  for  hours  before 
the  place  was  open. 

242 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 


11  And  then  rushing  in,  to  the  imminent  peril  of  life 
and  limb,  pushing  and  pommelling  and  belabouring  one 
another  like  madmen.  Some  of  the  lower  class  purchas- 
ers, inspired  by  the  thrifty  desire  for  gain,  said  to  be  a 
New  England  characteristic,  sell  these  tickets  which  they 
buy  at  the  box-office  price,  at  an  enormous  advance, 
and  smear  their  clothes  with  treacle  and  sugar  and 
other  abominations,  to  secure,  from  the  fear  of  their 
contact  of  all  decently-clad  competitors,  freer  access 
to  the  box-keeper.  To  prevent,  if  possible,  these  mal- 
practices and  to  secure  to  ourselves  and  the  managers 
of  the  theatre  any  such  surplus  profit  as  may  honestly 
be  come  by,  the  proprietors  have  determined  to  put  the 
boxes  up  to  auction  and  sell  the  tickets  to  the  highest 
bidders.  It  was  rather  barbarous  of  me,  I  think,  upon 
reflection,  to  stand  at  the  window  while  all  this  riot  was 
going  on,  laughing  at  the  fun;  for  not  a  wretch  found 
his  way  in  that  did  not  come  out  rubbing  his  back  or  his 
elbow,  or  showing  some  grievous  damage  done  to  his 
garments.  .  .  . 

"  The  opposite  window  of  my  room  looks  out  on  a 
churchyard  and  a  burial-ground;  the  reflections  sug- 
gested by  the  contrast  between  the  two  prospects  are 
not  otherwise  than  edifying.  .  .  .  But  Boston  is  one 
of  the  pleasantest  towns  imaginable.  It  is  built  upon 
three  hills,  which  give  it  a  singularly  picturesque  appear- 
ance, and  I  suppose  suggested  the  name  of  Tremonte 
Street,  and  the  Tremonte  Hotel,  which  we  inhabit. 
The  houses  are,  many  of  them,  of  fine  granite,  and  have 
an  air  of  wealth  and  solidity  unlike  anything  we  have 
seen  elsewhere  in  this  country.  Many  of  the  streets 
are  planted  with  trees,  chiefly  fine  horse-chestnuts, 
which  were  in  full  leaf  and  blossom  when  we  came  away 
and  which  harmonize  beautifully  with  the  gray  colour 
and  solemn  handsome  style  of  the  houses." 

243 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Fifteen  years  later  Fanny  Kemble  was  again  in  Boston 
"  professionally,"  this  time  to  give  some  of  the  Shake- 
spearian readings  to  which  she  now  had  turned  her  at- 
tention and  in  which  she,  as  well  as  her  audience,  took 
deep  satisfaction.  A  journalist  of  the  last  century,  re- 
viewing l  the  contribution  made  by  these  readings  to 
the  proper  appreciation  of  Shakespeare  in  America,  said 
that  Mrs.  Kemble  (for  after  her  divorce  from  her  hus- 
band, it  was  thus  that  she  called  herself)  had  been  able 
through  this  medium  to  do  for  Shakespeare  what  no 
other  living  being  of  that  time  could  have  accomplished. 

"  In  listening  to  her,  we  have  the  unexampled  pleasure 
of  seeing  one  of  Shakespeare's  plays,  with  each  part 
superbly  rendered.  Yes,  seeing,  for  do  we  not  forget 
the  dais  upon  which  she  sits,  the  dark  red  screen  behind 
her,  the  table  with  its  pile  of  books  —  do  not  these  simple 
surroundings  dissolve  and  melt  away  into  arching  for- 
ests or  palace  halls  at  will?  and  does  not  each  character 
step  before  us  in  the  costume  of  the  day,  whether  it  be 
Cleopatra,  dying  amid  long-forgotten  Egyptian  splen- 
dours, or  Titania  with  her  robe  of  woven  moonbeams,  or 
Bottom  with  ass's  head?  .  .  .  Thus  she  is  enabled  to 
do  for  Shakespeare  what  she  could  not  have  done  had 
she  remained  on  the  stage;  she  gives  us  each  one  of  his 
characters  equally  well  played,  a  pleasure  never  yet  en- 
joyed in  the  theatre. 

"  In  '  Macbeth,'  "continues  the  critic,  "  all  the  parts 
of  which  she  makes  as  distinct  as  she  does  deeply  tragic, 
Lady  Macbeth  is  not  more  terrible  than,  in  their  way, 
are  the  three  witches.  This  whole  scene  which  Shake- 
speare evidently  did  not  mean  to  make  grotesque  but 

1  In  The  Galaxy  for  December,  1868. 
244 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 


terrible,  is  travestied  on  the  stage,  but  in  Mrs.  Kemble's 
hands  it  is  what  it  was  meant  to  be,  wild,  weird,  appall- 
ing." 

Apropos  of  which  may  be  quoted  an  amusing  anec- 
dote from  the  diary  of  the  poet  Longfellow,  who  always 
went  to  hear  Mrs.  Kemble  when  she  was  in  Boston,  and 
who  on  February  18,  1857,  recorded:  "...  At  Mrs. 
Kemble's  reading  of  Macbeth  at  Tremont  Temple. 
Just  as  she  was  giving  the  words  of  Banquo  on  first 
seeing  the  Witches  — 

'  What  are  these 
So  withered  and  so  wild  in  their  attire/ 

three  belated  women  came  trailing  down  the  aisle  to 
a  front  seat  directly  in  the  range  of  her  eye.  The  effect 
was  indescribably  ludicrous." 

The  book  from  which  Mrs.  Kemble  was  wont  to  read 
on  these  occasions  was  a  huge  one  which  had  come  down 
to  her  from  her  aunt,  Mrs.  Siddons.  And,  towards  the 
latter  part  of  her  life,  at  least,  she  appeared  in  ordinary 
afternoon  dress  and  on  a  perfectly  bare  platform.  To 
create,  thus  unaided,  the  illusion  of  forests  and  palaces, 
with  Rosalind  or  Titania  or  Lady  Macbeth  dominating 
them,  was  indeed  to  prove  herself  an  artist.1 

In  1838  came  to  us  for  the  first  time  Charles  James 
Mathews,  who  was  a  wit,  even  as  his  father  had  been. 
Witness  his  own  description  of  his  personal  appearance: 

1  Coming  of  a  family  of  "  real  artists,"  she  used  to  say  that  she  never 
felt  herself  deserving  of  that  honourable  name. 

245 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  Even  when  I  was  a  baby,  folks  laughed  the  moment 
they  saw  me,  and  said,  '  Bless  the  little  dear!  what  a 
funny  face  it  has! '  The  '  off-side  of  my  mouth,  as  a 
coachman  would  say,  took  such  an  affection  for  my  ear, 
that  it  seemed  to  make  a  perpetual  struggle  to  form  a 
closer  communication  with  it;  and  one  eyebrow  be- 
came fixed  as  a  rusty  weathercock,  while  the  other 
popped  up  an  inch,  apparently,  beyond  its  proper  posi- 
tion." Mathews  overflowed  with  delicious  nonsense,1 
some  of  which  Leigh  Hunt  appreciatively  repeats. 

Mathews  early  conceived  an  attachment  for  the  famous 
Madame  Vestris,  who,  because  she  had  been  on  the  stage 
for  a  quarter  of  a  century  before  he  made  his  tardy  debut 
at  the  age  of  thirty-six,  was  generally  declared  to  be 
"  old  enough  to  be  his  mother."  In  point  of  fact,  she 
was  just  three  years  his  senior. 

Madame  Vestris  had  had  an  exciting  career.  At  four- 
teen she  was  brought  out  by  the  famous  ballet  master, 
Armand  Vestris,  who  afterward  married  her  out  of  hand 
in  France.  It  soon  developed  that  he  already  had  a 
wife,  however,  so  she  promptly  left  him  and  proceeded 
to  construct  a  career  of  her  own.  By  reason  of  her  charm- 
ing voice,  her  graceful  figure,  and  her  great  intelligence 
she  now  made  an  enormous  success  in  Italy  and  France 
as  well  as  in  London  and,  after  playing  for  £200  a  week 
at  Drury  Lane  and  Covent  Garden  jointly,  decided  to 
take  a  theatre  of  her  own.  Her  production  of  "  The 
Court  Beauties  "  -  the  beauties  in  question  being  the 

1  One  of  his  sayings  was:  "  If  there  are  no  theatres  in  the  hereafter, 
the  hereafter  must  be  a  very  dull  affair." 

246 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

rather  well-known  ladies  at  the  Court  of  Charles  II 
(Nell  Gwyn,  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  Castelmaine, 
Lucy  Waters,  and  La  Belle  Stuart)  —  was  the  sensation 
of  the  day,  so  elaborately  were  all  the  details  of  scenery 
and  costume  carried  out. 

To  the  gifted  lady  who  had  planned  and  financed  all 
this  magnificent  representation,  an  American  tour  was 
proposed,  in  1838,  by  Price,  who  had  theatrical  con- 
nections both  in  London  and  in  New  York.  Though  the 
offer  made  was  one  of  great  pecuniary  benefit,  Madame 
Vestris  demurred,  finally  asking  if  her  "  pupil,"  Charles 
James  Mathews,  might  not  be  engaged  also.  "  Well/' 
answered  Price,  "  if  you  go  out  together  you  must  get 
married." 

"  Married!  "  exclaimed  the  astonished  pair  in  concert. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  manager  inexorably,  "  and  the 
ceremony  must  take  place  publicly  here  and  be  verified 
by  the  London  newspapers."  Mrs.  Baron  Wilson,  who 
preserves  this  dialogue,1  adds  that  "  the  widow  turned 
her  smiling  eyes  upon  the  young  actor,  eyes  whose  power 
no  man  could  resist,  and  that  soon  a  tear  of  real  affec- 
tion added  itself  to  the  smile."  On  July  18,  1838,  there- 
fore, Charles  James  Mathews  married  this  Ninon  de 
PEnclos  of  her  day.  Never  did  a  marriage  create  a 
greater  sensation.  Especially  in  the  Olympic  Company 
comment  on  the  alliance  was  piquant  and  prolonged. 

Immediately  after  their  marriage,  the  pair  set  out  for 
America  to  fulfil  a  contract  to  act  for  one  year.  They 
were  to  be  paid  £20,000,  but  their  stay  was  very  short. 

1  In  "  Our  Actresses." 
247 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

For  though  Madame  Vestris  was  carefully  billed  as  "Mrs. 
Charles  Mathews,"  New  York  theatre-goers,  recalling 
her  variegated  past,  remained  cold  to  her.  Elsewhere  in 
America  her  audiences  pronounced  her  passee  and  refused 
to  allow  her  charming  singing  and  vivacious  acting  to 
compensate  for  her  indisputable  decline  in  good  looks 
and  for  her  tarnished  name.  Yet  Madame  Vestris  was  a 
very  clever  person  and  was  long  very  popular  in  London. 
As  an  actress  she  seems  to  have  done  the  kind  of  thing 
our  own  Lotta  l  made  very  popular  a  quarter  of  a  century 
later. 

Though  much  less  had  been  expected  of  Charles 
James  Mathews  than  of  his  wife,  Americans  were  disposed 
to  be  kind  to  him,  because  of  his  father,  and  he  made  a 
decided  hit.  Remembering  this,  he  came  over  again  the 
year  following  the  Madame's  death,  in  1856.  This  time 
his  success  at  the  Broadway  Theatre,  New  York,  was 
very  pronounced.  He  was  so  lucky,  too,  as  to  be  able 
to  take  back  to  England  as  his  wife  Mrs.  A.  H.  Davenport, 
who  had  been  Miss  Weston,  and  who  made  him,  as  he 
declares,  "  a  prudent,  economical,  industrious  little  help- 
mate, who  by  her  clear  little  head  and  good  little  heart, 
at  length  did  for  me  what  I  had  never  been  able  to  do 
for  myself  —  kept  my  expenditure  within  my  income." 
Twice  again  the  younger  Mathews  was  in  New  York: 

1  Lotta  Mignon  Crabtree,  born  in  New  York  in  1847,  was  one  of  the 
brightest  soubrettes  that  ever  delighted  a  public.  She  is  now  living  in 
luxury  on  the  fortune  she  made  while  on  the  stage.  Another  retired 
actress  who  profited  greatly  by  her  work  is  Maggie  Mitchell,  who  made 
a  very  great  hit  as  Fanchon  in  an  adaptation  of  George  Sands'  novel, 
"  La  Petite  Fadette." 

248 


MAGGIE    MITCHELL   AS    FANCHON 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

in  April,  1871,  at  the  end  of  his  world-tour,  and  a  year 
later,  after  he  had  played  all  over  the  United  States  and 
Canada,  for  a  closing  engagement  at  Wallack's.  To  the 
very  end  of  his  career  he  retained  in  his  work  all  the 
lightness  and  brilliancy  of  a  lad  of  twenty.  E.  A.  Sothern 
declared  him  "  the  founder  of  the  present  school  of  light 
comedy." 


249 


CHAPTER  X 

EARLY  NINETEENTH   CENTURY  AUDIENCES 

TYRONE  POWER,  1  who  played  over  here  during  the 
years  1833,  1834,  and  1835,  in  his  delightful  book,  "  Im- 
pressions of  America/'  has  given  us  several  very  illumi- 
nating glimpses  of  Americans  as  he  saw  them.  At  the 
outset  of  the  book  he  distinctly  disavows  his  intention 
of  "  boring  his  readers  with  a  series  of  playbills,  or  a 
journal  of  his  theatrical  career."  None  the  less,  because 
he  rightly  feels  that  it  would  have  been  mere  affectation 
to  eschew  the  subject  altogether,  we  do  get  bits  of  his 
adventures  while  touring  the  country,  and  particularly 
his  impressions  of  the  audiences  he  faced.  He  had  been 
told  that  theatre-goers  in  New  York  had  no  taste  what- 
ever for  Irish  character,  and  as  they  had  been  accustomed 
to  associate  with  representatives  of  the  Emerald  Isle 
a  ruffian  with  a  black  eye  and  straw  in  his  shoes,  there 

1  Tyrone  Power  was  born  in  Ireland  November  22,  1797.  In  July, 
1815,  he  made  his  debut  at  Newport  in  the  Isle  of  Wight  as  Alonzo  in 
"  Pizarro."  In  1817  he  married,  and  a  year  later,  coming  into  possession 
of  his  wife's  fortune,  left  the  stage.  Two  years  later  he  went  on  an 
exploring  expedition  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  but  as 
this  proved  disastrous  he  returned  to  London,  once  more  took  to  the 
stage,  and  after  ten  years  of  success  in  England  and  Ireland  came  to 
America  for  the  first  time.  His  last  appearance  on  any  stage  was  March 
9,  1841,  at  the  Park  Theatre,  New  York,  as  Gerald  Pepper  and  Morgan 
Rattler.  He  was  lost  on  the  steamship  President,  which  sailed  from  New 
York  for  Liverpool,  March  21,  1841. 

250 


The.  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

would  be  absolutely  no  appreciation  for  a  quiet  and 
natural  portrait  of  the  well-disposed  Irishman.  Exactly 
the  same  warning,  it  is  interesting  to  note,  with  which 
the  delightful  Irish  Players,  who  have  been  so  much  en- 
joyed here  in  recent  years,  were  at  first  met.  Power,  un- 
afraid, determined  to  see  for  himself,  and  with  no  other 
engagement  than  one  for  twelve  nights  in  New  York, 
bravely  crossed  the  Atlantic  to  test  our  taste.  Of  course 
he  was  full  of  anxiety  on  the  night  of  his  debut  (August 
28,  1833),  the  more  so  since  the  day  had  been  the  hottest 
of  a  very  hot  season.  Yet  he  was  very  well  received 
when  he  made  his  bow  at  the  Park.  The  house  was  ex- 
ceedingly crowded  — "  from  pit  to  roof  rose  tier  on 
tier  one  dark  unbroken  mass  "  —  and  he  made  his  first 
bow  "  amid  greetings  as  hearty  "  as  ever  he  had  received 
in  his  life. 

"  I  saw  no  coat  off,  no  heels  up,  no  legs  over  boxes," 
he  records,  evidently  in  allusion  to  the  revolting  descrip- 
tion Mrs.  Trollope  l  had  given  of  the  theatre  manners 
encountered  during  her  visit  over  here  a  few  years 
earlier.  These  times  had  passed  away;  "  a  more  English 
audience  I  would  not  desire  to  act  before." 

The  Park  Theatre,  Power  describes  as  "  of  the  horse- 
shoe form,  with  three  tiers  of  boxes;  is  handsome,  and 
in  all  respects  as  well  appointed  as  any  theatre  out  of 
London.  The  orchestra  is  at  present  excellent,  and 

1  This  lady,  in  her  very  entertaining  book.  "  Domestic  Manners  of 
the  Americans,"  accuses  us  of  many  shocking  lapses  from  good  breeding 
and  self-restraint  while  in  public.  In  one  New  York  theatre  she  even 
observed  a  mother  administering  natural  nutrition  to  her  child  between 
the  acts! 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

under  the  direction  of  a  very  clever  man  —  Penson, 
formerly  leader  at  Dublin.  The  company  I  found  for 
my  purpose  a  very  fair  one,  my  pieces  requiring  little 
save  correctness  from  most  of  those  concerned,  except 
where  old  men  occur  and  all  such  parts  found  an  excel- 
lent representative  in  an  American  actor  called  Placide. 
Descended  of  a  long  line  of  talented  players,  he  pos- 
sesses a  natural  talent  I  have  rarely  seen  surpassed, 
together  with  a  chastity  and  simplicity  of  style  that 
would  do  credit  to  the  best  school  of  comedy.  .  .  . 
There  is  a  representative  of  old  women  here,  too,  a 
native,  Mrs.  Wheatley,  an  inartificial,  charming  actress, 
with  a  perfect  conception  of  all  she  does." 

In  Philadelphia,  Power  appeared  at  both  the  Walnut 
Street  and  the  Chestnut  Street  houses. 

"  The  Walnut  is  a  summer  theatre  and  the  least  fash- 
ionable," he  writes,  "  and  here  it  was  my  fortune  to 
make  my  debut  to  the  Philadelphians  with  good  suc- 
cess: a  French  company  occupied  at  the  same  time  the 
Chestnut,  where,  after  a  seven  nights'  engagement  at 
the  other  house,  I  succeeded  them;  the  proprietors  being 
the  same  at  both.  These  houses  are  large,  handsome 
buildings,  marble-fronted,  having  ample  and  well- 
arranged  vomitories;  and  are  not  stuck  in  some  obscure 
alley,  as  most  of  our  theatres  are,  but  standing  in  the 
finest  streets  of  the  city,  and  every  way  easy  of  approach : 
within  they  are  fitted  up  plainly  but  conveniently,  and 
very  cleanly  and  well  kept.  I  prefer  the  Chestnut  as 
smaller  and  having  a  pit  —  as  I  think  all  pits  should  be  — 
nearly  on  a  level  with  the  front  of  the  stage,  instead  of 
being  sunk  deep  below,  looking,  when  filled,  like  a  huge 
dark  pool,  covered  with  upturned  faces. 

"  A  crowded  audience,  Philadelphia,  presents  as  large 

252 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

a  proportion  of  pretty,  attractive  women  as  are  any- 
where to  be  seen;  and  the  male  part  is  singularly  re- 
spectable and  attentive.1  .  .  .  The  unreserved  laughter 
in  which  they  indulged  I  found  abundant  applause,  and 
in  well-fitted  houses  the  best  assurance  that  they  were 
pleased.  The  company  here  was  a  very  good  one,  and 
the  pieces  as  well  gotten  up  as  anywhere  in  the  States." 

Concerning  Boston,  Power  is  similarly  enthusiastic, 
though  he  finds  it  difficult  to  pause  in  his  raptures  over 
the  Tremont  Hotel  long  enough  to  give  us  even  a  brief 
description  of  the  Tremont  Theatre,  just  across  the  street. 

"  Immediately  opposite  the  great  hotel  is  the  Tremont 
Theatre,  certainly  the  most  elegant  exterior  in  the 
country,  and  with  a  very  well-proportioned,  but  not  well- 
arranged  salle,  or  audience  part.  I  commenced  here  on 
Monday  the  3oth  of  September,  three  days  after  the 
closing  at  Philadelphia,  to  a  well-filled  house,  composed, 
however,  chiefly  of  men.  My  welcome  was  cordial  and 
kind  in  the  extreme;  but  the  audience,  although  atten- 
tive, appeared  exceedingly  cold.  On  a  first  night  I  did 
not  heed  this  much,  especially  as  report  assured  me  they 
were  very  well  pleased;  but  throughout  the  week  this 
coldness  appeared  to  me  to  increase  rather  than  dimin- 

1  The  testimony  to  be  found  in  the  "  Diary  "  of  Christopher  Columbus 
Baldwin  of  Worcester  concerning  the  manners  of  the  Park  Theatre 
audience  during  1833  is,  however,  as  follows:  "  There  is  small  pleasure 
in  attending  the  theatre  compared  with  attending  it  in  Boston,  and  the 
reason  is  found  in  the  more  perfect  police  regulations  in  the  latter  place. 
The  Boston  Theatre  is  as  quiet  and  orderly  between  the  acts  and  scenes 
as  a  company  collected  for  religious  worship.  But  in  New  York  every- 
thing is  in  confusion.  The  boys  are  cracking  nuts  and  throwing  the 
shells  as  in  Shakesperian  time,  while  orange  peels,  apples  and  vulgar 
language  are  thrown  from  the  gallery."  Evidently  the  theatre  conduct 
of  the  day  was  different  at  different  times  —  depending  on  the  kind  of 
people  attracted  to  the  playhouse  on  each  occasion. 

253 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

ish,  and  so  much  was  I  affected  by  it,  that,  notwith- 
standing the  house  was  very  good,  I,  on  the  last  day  of 
my  first  engagement  of  six  nights,  declined  positively  to 
renew  it,  as  was  the  custom  in  such  cases,  and  as,  in 
fact,  the  manager  and  myself  had  contemplated:  on 
this  night,  however,  the  aspect  of  affairs  brightened 
up  amazingly;  the  house  was  crowded;  a  brilliant  show 
of  ladies  graced  the  boxes;  the  performances  were  a 
repetition  of  two  pieces  which  had  been  previously  acted, 
and  from  first  to  last  the  mirth  was  electric;  the  good 
people  appeared  by  common  consent,  to  abandon  them- 
selves to  the  fun  of  the  scene,  and  laughed  a  gorge  de- 
ployee.  At  the  fall  of  the  curtain,  after,  in  obedience  to 
the  call  of  the  house,  I  had  made  my  bow,  the  manager 
announced  my  re-engagement;  and  from  this  night 
forth  I  never  drew  a  merrier  or  a  pleasanter  audience. 

"  It  was  quite  in  accordance  with  the  character  as- 
cribed to  the  New  Englanders,"  continues  this  very 
fair-minded  observer,  "  that  they  should  coolly  and 
thoroughly  examine  and  understand  the  novelty  pre- 
sented to  their  judgment,  and  that  being  satisfied  and 
pleased,  they  should  no  longer  set  limits  to  the  demon- 
stration of  their  feelings.  In  matters  of  graver  import 
they  have  always  evinced  the  like  deliberate  judgment 
and  apparent  coldness  of  bearing;  but  beneath  this  pru- 
dential outward  veil  they  have  feelings  capable  of  the 
highest  degree  of  excitement  and  the  most  enduring 
enthusiasm.  .  .  .  Some  of  the  kindest  gentlest  and  the 
most  hospitable  friends  I  had  were,  as  they  say  here, 
'  real  Yankee,  born  and  raised  within  sight  of  the  State- 
house  of  Bos  ting. ' ' 

During  Power's  second  visit  to  New  York,  he  went  to 
look  over  the  Opera  House  which  had  been  built  there 
very  suddenly  by  subscription. 

254 


TYRONE    POWER 

Alter  a  drawing  by  D'Orsay 

See  page  250 


L  - 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  It  is  about  the  size  of  the  Lyceum ;  arranged  after 
the  French  fashion,  having  stalls,  a  parterre,  and  balcon 
below;  and  above,  two  circles  of  private  boxes,  the 
property  of  subscribers.  Some  of  these  are  fitted  up  in 
a  style  of  extravagance  I  never  saw  attempted  elsewhere. 
There  has  been  a  sort  of  rivalry  exercised  on  this  head, 
and  it  has  been  pursued  with  that  regardlessness  of  cost 
which  distinguishes  a  trading  community  where  their 
amour  propre  is  in  question.  Silks,  velvets,  damask, 
and  gilt  furniture  form  the  material  within  many;  and, 
as  the  parties  consult  only  their  own  taste,  the  colours 
of  these  are  various  as  their  proprietors'  fancies.  I  do 
not  find  the  ensemble  bad,  however;  whilst  the  shape  and 
mounting  of  the  salle  are  both  unexceptionable. 

"  This  effort,  however  creditable  to  the  good  taste 
of  the  city,  is  premature,  and  must  be  doomed  to  more 
failures  than  one  before  it  permanently  succeeds.  A 
refined  taste  for  the  best  kind  of  music  is  not  consequent 
upon  the  erection  of  an  opera-house,  nor  is  it  a  feeling 
to  be  created  at  will.  Even  in  the  metropolis  of  England, 
with  a  capital  so  disproportionate,  and  possessing  such 
superior  facilities  for  the  attainment  of  novelty,  did  the 
continuance  of  this  refined  amusement  depend  solely 
upon  the  love  of  good  music,  it  would  quickly  die,  if 
not  be  forgotten.  From  time  to  time,  a  small  but  effi- 
cient and  really  good  Italian  troupe,  will,  without  doubt, 
find  liberal  encouragement  in  the  great  northern  cities, 
and  also  in  New  Orleans,  provided  they  make  a  short 
stay  in  each;  but,  rapidly  as  events  progress  here,  I  will 
undertake  to  predict  that  a  century  must  elapse  before 
even  New  York  can.  sustain  a  permanent  operatic  es- 
tablishment." (Events,  it  is  interesting  to  note,  did,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  progress  in  this  direction  considerably 
more  rapidly  than  Mr.  Power  thought  possible.) 

The   theatre   in  Washington   our  visiting  Irishman 

255 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

found  "  a  most  miserable  looking  place,  the  worst  I  met 
with  in  the  country,  ill-situated  and  difficult  of  access; 
but  it  was  filled  nightly  by  a  very  delightful  audience 
and  nothing  could  be  more  pleasant  than  to  witness  the 
perfect  abandon  with  which  the  gravest  of  the  senate 
laughed  over  the  diplomacy  of  the  '  Irish  Ambassador.' 
They  found  allusions  and  adopted  sayings  applicable  to 
a  crisis  when  party  1  feelings  were  carried  to  an  extrem- 
ity. The  elaborate  display  of  eloquence  with  which  Sir 
Patrick  seeks  to  bother  the  Spanish  envoy  was  quoted 
as  the  very  model  of  a  speech  for  a  non-committal  orator, 
and  recommended  for  the  study  of  several  gentlemen 
who  were  considered  as  aiming  at  this  convenient  posi- 
tion, very  much  to  their  amusement.  The  pieces  were 
ill  mounted,  and  the  company  unworthy  the  capital, 
with  the  exception  of  two  very  pretty  and  very  clever 
native  actresses,  Mesdames  Willis  and  Chapman.  The 
latter  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  soon  transferred 
to  New  York,  in  which  city  she  became  a  monstrous 
favourite,  both  in  tragedy  and  comedy.  ...  I  acted  in 
Washington  seven  nights  on  this  occasion,  and  visited 
the  city  again  in  May,  when  I  passed  three  or  four  weeks 
most  agreeably.  I  had  the  pleasure,  too,  during  this 
last  visit,  of  seeing  the  plans  for  a  theatre  worthy  the 
audience,  and  which,  I  trust,  has  by  this  time  been 
happily  erected  as  the  greatest  part  of  the  fund  needed 
was  readily  subscribed  for." 

Pittsburg,  at  the  time  of  Power's  visit,  was  without  the 
many  millionaires  that  now  distinguish  it;  but  it  had  the 
smoke  from  which  they  grew.  Though  the  theatre  of 
the  place  was  not  yet  a  year  old,  "  the  ornamental  parts 
of  the  interior  were  already  disfigured,"  we  read. 

1  Andrew  Jackson  was  President  at  this  time. 
256 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

11  The  smoke  which  fills  the  atmosphere  day  and  night 
fully  exonerates  the  people  from  the  charge  of  being 
wilfully  regardless  of  neatness  in  the  arrangement  of 
their  dwellings.  I  found  the  manager  of  the  theatre, 
Mr.  Wemyss,  at  his  post,  and  all  things  in  tolerable 
order.  At  night  the  house,  calculated  to  contain  about 
one  thousand  persons,  was  filled;  though  how  the 
people  made  their  way  home  again  I  do  not  know;  even 
the  short  distance  I  had  to  explore  on  the  line  of  the 
principal  street,  I  found  beset  with  perils;  loose  pave- 
ments, scaffold-poles,  rubbish,  and  building  materials 
of  all  kinds  blocked  up  the  sidewalk  in  several  places, 
whiclrhad  to  be  avoided  by  instinct,  for  light  there  was 
none,  natural  or  artificial." 

One  non-theatrical  adventure  of  Mr.  Power,  while  in 
Pittsburg,  must  here  be  quoted,  because  it  shows  the 
temper  of  the  man.  While  walking  in  the  woods  outside 
the  city,  he  came  upon  a  little  colony  of  charcoal-burners. 

"  From  their  colour  they  might  have  been  Iroquois, 
or  negroes;  but  the  first  reply  I  got  to  my  hail  rendered 
any  inquiry  as  to  the  country  unnecessary. 

"  '  Hola!  my  friend/  shouted  I,  at  the  top  of  my 
voice,  as  a  tall,  half-naked  being  stalked  out  of  one  of 
the  huts,  from  which  I  was  separated  by  a  deep  ravine; 
'  pray  step  this  way  for  one  moment.' 

"  The  man  did  as  I  desired,  without  a  word;  a  couple 
of  attendant  imps  hanging  on  to  the  strings  of  his  knees. 

"  i  I'm  sorry  to  trouble  you/  I  added,  as  he  drew 
within  easy  speaking-distance;  '  but  the  fact  is,  I  have 
lost  my  road,  and  fear  to  lose  my  dinner.' 

"  '  I'  faith,  thin,  sir,  if  you'll  tell  me  whereabouts  you 
lost  the  road  I'll  find  you  the  dinner,  and  go  back  and 

257 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

look  for  the  road  while  you're  atein'  it;  with  the  bless- 
ing o'  God,  it  will  be  the  first  road  I  seen  since  I've  ben 
this  side  o'  Pittsburg,  to  say  the  laste.' 

"  Maybe  you've  seen  a  fine  aisy-goin'  road  betune 
Cork  and  Cove,'  I  replied,  in  the  same  accent. 

"  '  Maybe  I  haven't/  grinned  the  pleased  charcoal- 
burner,  laughing  from  ear  to  ear.  '  Och  murder !  You're 
the  devil,  sure!  wasn't  it  the  last  ten  miles  I  ever  toed 
of  Irish  ground?  Long  life  to  you,  sir!  wait  till  I  call 
the  wife.  Molly  asthore,  come  out  av  id,  for  here's  a 
witch  of  a  gintleman  here.  Jem,  you  robber,  go  and  bid 
your  mammy  stir  herself  and  come  here.' 

"  Away  ran  Jem  and  his  brother,  or  rather  flew.  I 
laughed  immoderately  whilst  my  countryman,  with  the 
most  puzzled  air,  exclaimed:  '  Och  murder!  but  it's  the 
quarest  thing  alive.  Sure  you  must  have  know'd  us?  ' 

"  He  was  now  joined  by  his  wife  and  two  or  three 
others  of  the  little  family,  who  all  appeared  nearly  of 
an  age.  Poor  Molly,  the  Mistress,  looked  weak  and 
haggard,  and  told  me  she  '  had  the  shakes  on  her  for 
the  last  six  months.'  She  was  affected  to  tears  when  her 
husband  told  her  of  my  witchcraft,  in  knowing  where 
they  were  from,  and  joined  in  begging  that  '  I'd  come 
around  and  take  a  bite  o'  cake  and  a  sup  o'  spirits  and 
water,  to  keep  me  from  feelin'  faint  till  I  got  my  din- 
ner/ 

"  I  requested,  however,  as  my  time  was  short,  that 
one  of  the  little  ones  might  at  once  put  me  on  the  near- 
est track  by  which  I  would  reach  the  bridge;  so  I  left 
my  friendly  countryman  and  with  a  l  God  send  you 
safe  home,  sir! '  he  turned  to  his  humble  dwelling,  to 
think  with  a  full  heart  of  that  distant  home  my  chance 
visit  had  recalled  in  all  its  freshness,  and  which  although 
he  may  never  look  to  revisit,  no  son  of  poor  Ireland  ever 
forgets." 

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The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

In  Albany  Mr.  Power  encountered  one  of  those  curi- 
ously hostile  crowds  which,  from  time  to  time,  during 
the  nineteenth  century,  turned  out  to  make  life  wretched 
for  visiting  actors. 

"  I  had  been  advised/'  he  says,  "  not  to  visit  this  city 
professionally,  but  being  strongly  solicited  by  the  worthy 
manager,  I  decided  to  go.  '  Mischief  lay  in  my  way, 
and  I  found  it/  .  .  .  The  only  disagreement  I  ever  had 
with  an  audience,  in  fact,  occurred  here,  and,  roundly, 
thus  it  happened:  On  the  evening  when  I  was  adver- 
tised to  make  my  debut  to  an  Albany  audience,  I  at  my 
usual  hour  walked  to  the  house,  dressed,  and  was  ready; 
but  when,  half  an  hour  after  the  time  of  beginning,  I 
went  on  the  stage,  there  were  not  ten  persons  in  the 
house.  The  stage-director  and  myself  now  held  a  con- 
sultation on  the  unpromising  aspect  of  our  affairs.  He 
ascribed  the  unusually  deserted  condition  of  the  salle  to 
the  sultry  and  threatening  state  of  the  atmosphere, 
which  had  deterred  the  neighbouring  towns  of  Troy  and 
Waterford  from  furnishing  their  quota,  —  those  indeed 
being  his  chief  dependencies.  I  was  opposed,  on  policy, 
to  throwing  away  our  ammunition  so  unprofitably;  and 
so  after  due  deliberation,  the  manager  agreed  to  state 
to  the  few  persons  in  front,  that '  with  their  permission  ' 
the  performances  intended  for  this  night  would  be  post- 
poned until  the  evening  after  the  next  following;  as,  in 
consequence  of  the  exceeding  smallness  of  the  audience, 
it  was  feared  to  be  the  play  would  prove  dull  to  them, 
as  it  must  be  irksome  to  the  actors.  Nothing  could  be 
received  with  better  feelings  on  the  part  of  the  persons 
assembled;  not  a  breath  of  disapprobation  was  heard. 
They  instantly  went  away;  but  soon  after  I  reached 
home,  I  found,  by  the  report  of  one  or  two  gentlemen 
who  had  since  been  at  the  theatre  seeking  admittance, 

259 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

that  a  considerable  excitement  prevailed,  and  that  at 
the  public  bars  of  the  neighbourhood  the  affair  was  de- 
tailed in  a  way  likely  to  produce  unpleasant  effects  on 
my  first  appearance. 

"  The  appointed  night  came,  the  house  was  filled  with 
men  and  everything  foreboded  a  violent  outbreak;  the 
manager  appeared  terrified  out  of  his  wits;  but,  as  far 
as  I  can  judge,  behaved  with  infinite  honesty.  ...  It 
was  now  found  that  an  actor  or  two  needed  in  the  piece 
were  absent.  These  worthies,  the  chief  agitators  in  this 
affair  ,5were,  in  fact,  in  front  of  the  house  to  assist  in  the 
expected  assault  upon  a  stranger  and  one  of  their  own 
profession.  On  this  being  explained  to  the  manager  he 
said  he  was  aware  of  it,  and  had  threatened  to  discharge 
the  individuals;  but  relying  upon  the  affair  terminating 
in  my  discomfiture,  they  did  not  fear  being  sustained 
by  the  same  intelligence  which  they  now  directed  against 
me. 

"  On  my  appearance  the  din  was  mighty  and  deafen- 
ing; the  volunteer  champions  of  the  public  had  come 
well  prepared,  and  every  invention  for  making  the  voice 
of  humanity  bestial  was  present  and  in  full  use.  The 
boxes  I  observed  to  be  occupied  by  well-dressed  men, 
who  generally  either  remained  neutral,  or  by  signs 
sought  that  I  should  be  heard.  This,  however,  was  out 
of  the  question;  and  after  long  and  patient  abiding  '  for 
patience  is  the  badge  of  all  our  tribe/  I  made  my  bow 
and  retired,  when  the  manager,  who  had  on  the  night 
in  question  dismissed  the  house,  made  his  bow,  and 
after  silence  was  obtained,  begged  that  the  audience 
would  give  me  a  hearing,  assuring  them  on  his  own 
knowledge  that  I  had  not  contemplated  insulting  them. 

"  I  again  came  forward,  and  after  some  time,  was 
permitted  to  say  that  I  could  in  no  way  account  for  a 
simple  matter  of  business  being  so  misrepresented  as  to 

260 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

occasion  this  violent  exhibition  of  their  anger;  that, 
before  the  audience  in  question  was  dismissed,  its  per- 
mission had  been  obtained;  that,  had  I  really  contem- 
plated insult,  it  is  hardly  probable  I  should  wait  two 
days  to  encounter  the  anger  of  those  I  had  sought  to 
offend.  I  further  said  that,  on  the  common  principle 
of  what  they  professed,  I  was  entitled  to  a  hearing,  since 
the  sense  of  the  majority  was  evidently  with  me;  and 
that,  if  the  disorder  continued,  I  should,  for  the  sake  of 
that  respectable  majority,  sincerely  regret  this,  since 
the  character  of  their  city  for  justice  and  hospitality 
would  be  more  impeached  than  my  prospects  be  in- 
jured. After  this  the  row  was  resumed  with  added 
fierceness :  not  a  word  of  either  play  or  farce  was  heard ; 
but  I  persisted  in  going  through  with  the  performance, 
being  determined  not  to  dismiss  a  second  time. 

"  The  whole  thing,  I  was  afterwards  assured,  arose 
from  stories  most  industriously  circulated  by  one  or  two 
ill-conditioned  actors,  backed  by  inflammatory  hand- 
bills and  a  scurrilous  print.  .  .  .  Yet  I  have  never  been 
able  to  regret  a  momentary  vexation  which  obtained  for 
me  many  friends,  and  made  known  to  me  the  sterling 
good  feeling  existing  in  Albany,  of  which  I  might  other- 
wise have  remained  ignorant.  ...  I  concluded  my 
engagement,  which  was  only  for  four  nights,  and  left 
the  theatre  with  a  promise  to  return." 

Baltimore,  Charleston,  Savannah,  and  Columbus  were 
in  turn  visited  by  the  gifted  Irishman,  but  he  has  little 
or  nothing  to  say  of  his  theatrical  experiences  in  these 
places.  In  discussing  New  Orleans  he  is  more  communi- 
cative. 

First  he  describes  the  American  Theatre,  which  he 
found  "  a  large,  well-proportioned  house,  with  three 

261 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

rows  of  boxes,  a  pit  or  parquette,  as  it  is  termed,  sub- 
divided as  in  the  French  Theatre;  each  seat  is  num- 
bered, and,  being  taken  at  the  box-office,  is  secured  to 
the  purchaser  for  any  part  of  the  evening.  The  com- 
pany was  a  very  tolerable  one;  and  in  the  person  of  a 
nephew  of  Mr.  Farren's,  I  found  an  adjunct  of  much 
importance  to  me  —  an  excellent  old  man. 

"  My  next  anxiety  was  about  my  audience,  not  its 
numbers,  as  I  was  assured  every  seat  in  the  house  was 
disposed  of,  and  this  as  far  as  could  be  allowed  for  every 
night  I  might  perform;  but  I  felt  solicitous  with  respect 
to  its  character  and  composition,  of  which  I  had  re- 
ceived very  discouraging  reports.  .  .  .  On  Tuesday  I 
made  my  debut;  and  never  was  man  more  agreeably 
surprised  than  myself  when,  after  making  my  bow,  I 
for  the  first  time  took  a  rapid  survey  of  the  aspect  of  the 
house:  the  parquettes  and  dress  boxes  were  almost  ex- 
clusively filled  by  ladies,  coiffees  with  the  taste  which  dis  • 
tinguishes  French  women  in  every  country,  and  which 
becomes  peculiarly  striking  here,  where  are  to  be  seen 
the  finest  heads  of  dark  hair  in  the  world;  many  wore 
bonnets  of  the  latest  Parisian  fashion,  and  all  were  more 
dressed  than  it  is  usual  to  be  at  theatres  in  America. 
This  attention  to  costume  on  the  part  of  the  ladies, 
added  to  their  occupying  the  pit,  obliges  the  gentlemen 
to  adopt  a  correspondent  neatness;  and  hence  it  occurs 
that,  when  the  New  Orleans  theatre  is  attended  by  the 
belles  of  the  city,  it  presents  decidedly  the  most  elegant- 
looking  auditory  of  this  country.  I  found  them  in 
manner  equal  to  their  appearance;  a  greater  degree  of 
repose  and  gentility  of  demeanour  I  never  remember  to 
have  noticed  in  any  mixed  assembly  of  any  place.  My 
first  engagement  was  for  twelve  nights,  four  nights  per 
week.  On  my  return  from  Natchez  I  acted  a  like  num- 
ber more  with  equal  patronage." 

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The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Of  that  famous  institution,  the  French  Opera  House 
at  New  Orleans,  Power  has  given  us  the  following  fas- 
cinating glimpse: 

"  I  visited  it  several  times  and  found  it  an  exceedingly 
well-appointed,  handsome  place,  with  a  company  very 
superior  to  the  American  Theatre  and  having  its  pieces 
altogether  better  mounted.  It  is  to  this  house  the 
Creole  families  chiefly  resort,  as  well,  indeed,  as  the 
American  ladies  of  the  best  class,  most  of  whom  are  good 
French  scholars;  within  this  salle  on  any  Sunday  eve- 
ning may  be  seen  eyes  as  bright  and  forms  as  delicately 
proportioned  as  in  la  belle  France  itself. 

"  The  building,  whereof  this  theatre  forms  a  part 
only,  is  a  very  extensive  one,  having  as  a  part  of  its 
establishment  a  large  ball-room,  with  supper  rooms  at- 
tached; and,  in  addition  to  this,  a  variety  of  hells,  where 
gambling  flourishes  in  full  practice:  from  the  salon 
where  the  wealthy  Creole  plays  his  five-hundred-dollar 
coup,  to  the  obscure  den  where  roulette  does  its  work, 
with  a  pace  slower  but  as  sure,  at  the  rate  of  half-dollar 
stakes.  I  have  looked  in  on  these  places  during  the 
performances,  and  never  without  finding  them  full. 
Such  establishments,  ruinous  and  detestable  under 
whatever  guise  and  in  whatsoever  place  they  are  per- 
mitted, become  doubly  dangerous  when  placed  under 
the  same  roof  and  carried  on  in  obvious  connection  with 
what  should  be  at  all  times  an  innocent  recreation,  and 
which  ought  and  might  be  one  of  a  refined  and  moral 
tendency.  The  scenes  of  desperation  and  distress  which 
gambling  yearly  gave  rise  to  in  this  place  amongst  a 
people  whose  temperament  is  peculiarly  excitable, 
coupled  with  a  recent  and  terrible  expose  have  at  length 
roused  the  legislature  of  Louisiana  to  release  themselves 
from  the  stigma  of  owing  any  portion  of  their  revenue 

263 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

to  a  tax  which  legalized  this  worst  species  of  robbery 
and  assassination.  This  very  session  I  had  the  gratifica- 
tion of  seeing  a  bill  brought  into  the  House,  and  promptly 
carried  through  it,  making  gambling  felony,  and  sub- 
jecting its  followers  to  corresponding  punishment.  The 
French  Theatre  will  henceforward,  I  hope  forever,  be 
freed  from  the  disgrace  which  such  an  association  neces- 
sarily reflected  upon  the  drama  and  all  concerned  with 
it."  l 

At  Natchez  Mr.  Power's  first  advertised  performance 
had  to  be  put  off,  for  the  extraordinary  reason  that  the 
oil  of  the  theatre's  lamplighter  had  been  so  affected  by 
frost  that  it  refused  to  burn  at  short  notice.  The  actor 
had  chanced  to  encounter  one  of  the  rare  cold  spells  which 
occasionally  grip  this  town  in  February. 

Two  days  later  "  the  weather  was  a  little  milder  so  I 
took  a  gallop  into  the  country,  dined  early  and  about  six 
walked  out  of  town  to  the  theatre  preparatory  to  making 
my  bow.  The  way  was  without  a  single  passenger,  and 
not  a  creature  lingered  about  the  outer  doors  of  the 
house;  the  interior  I  found  in  the  possession  of  a  single 
lamplighter  who  was  leisurely  setting  about  his  duties; 
of  him  I  inquired  the  hour  of  beginning,  and  learnt  that 
it  was  usual  to  commence  about  seven  or  eight  o'clock 
-  a  tolerable  latitude;  time  was  thus  afforded  me  for  a 
ramble,  and  out  I  sallied,  taking  the  direction  leading 
from  the  town.  I  had  not  proceeded  far  when  I  met 
several  men  riding  together;  a  little  further  on  another 
group,  with  a  few  ladies  in  company,  passed  leisurely 
by,  all  capitally  mounted:  others,  I  perceived,  were 
fast  approaching  from  the  same  direction.  It  now  oc- 

1  "  Impressions  of  America,"  vol.  II,  p.  175. 
264 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 


curred  to  me  that  these  were  the  persons  destined  to 
form  the  country  quota  of  my  auditory;  upon  looking 
back,  my  impression  was  confirmed  by  seeing  them  all 
halting  in  front  of  the  rural  theatre,  and  fastening  their 
horses  to  the  neighbouring  rails  and  trees. 

"  I  now  hastened  back  to  take  a  survey  of  the  scene, 
and  a  very  curious  one  it  was:  a  number  of  carriages  were 
by  this  time  arriving  from  the  town,  together  with  long 
lines  of  pedestrians.  .  .  .  The  whole  party  having  come 
up,  and  the  horses  being  hitched  in  front  of  the  building 
to  their  owners7  satisfaction,  all  walked  leisurely  into 
the  theatre,  the  men  occupying  the  pit  whilst  in  the 
boxes  were  several  groups  of  pretty  and  well-dressed 
women.  The  demeanour  of  these  border  gallants  was 
as  orderly  as  could  be  desired;  and  their  enjoyment, 
if  one  might  judge  from  the  heartiness  of  their  laughter, 
exceeding. 

"  After  the  performance  there  was  a  general  muster 
to  horse;  and  away  they  rode  in  groups  of  from  ten  to 
twenty,  as  their  way  might  lie  together.  These  were 
the  planters  of  the  neighbouring  country,  many  of  whom 
came  nightly  to  visit  the  theatre,  and  this  from  very 
considerable  distances;  forming  such  an  audience  as 
cannot  be  seen  elsewhere  in  this  hackney-coach  age. 
Indeed,  to  look  on  so  many  fine  horses,  with  their 
antique  caparisons,  piquetted  about  the  theatre,  recalled 
the  palmy  days  of  the  Globe  and  B  ear-garden. " 


265 


CHAPTER  XI 

RACHEL  AND   FECHTER 

IT  was  in  "  Tripler  Hall,"  which  had  been  erected  on 
the  west  side  of  Broadway  for  the  New  York  debut  of 
Jenny  Lind  (but  was  not  completed  in  season  for  this 
event),  that  Mile.  Rachel  and  her  French  company  made 
their  first  New  York  appearance,  September  3,  1855. 
The  house  had  been  renamed  "  The  Metropolitan  "  for 
this  occasion,  and  the  bill  announcement  was  as  follows : 

Rachel's  Dramatic  Company 

I  beg  respectfully  to  inform  the  public  of  New  York  that 

Mile.  Rachel's  First  Performance 

will  irrevocably  take  place  on 

Monday  next,  the  jrd  of  September 

It  will  consist  of  Corneille's  tragedy  entitled 

"  Les  Horaces  " 
Mile.  Rachel  will  appear  as  Camille 

The  performance  will  begin  at  7.20  o'clock  precisely,  with 
Jules  de  Premeray's  new  comedy,  in  two  acts,  in  which  the 
three  sisters  of  Mile.  Rachel  will  appear. 

266 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

The  second  performance  will  take  place  Sept.  4,  when  Ra- 
cine's tragedy 

"  Phedre  " 

will  be  presented,  with  Mile.  Rachel  as  Phedre. 
The  third  performance  on  Thursday,  Sept.  6,  when 

"  Adrienne  Lecouvreur  " 

will  be  presented,  with  Mile.  Rachel  as  Adrienne,  and 
the  fourth  performance,  on  Friday,  September  7,  will  consist 

of 

"  Marie  Stuart," 
a  tragedy  by  Lebrun,  with  Mile.  Rachel  as  Marie. 

Prices  of  admission  to  Mile.  Rachel's  performances: 

Orchestra  seats,  Parquet  and  First    I    Parquet  Circle  $3 

Circle  $2    |    Upper  Circle  $i 

Raphael  Felix,  manager  of  the  Rachel  company. 

"  Rachel  achieved  last  night/'  wrote  the  critic  of  the 
New  York  Tribune  the  day  following  that  great  trage- 
dienne's first  appearance.  "  When  the  enthusiasm  which 
greeted  her  entrance  had  died  away  into  silence,  we 
thought  we  had  never  seen  her  look  to  such  advantage, 
or  wear  such  classic  air.  .  .  .  When  uttering  her  first 
words  to  Sabina  what  immediately  struck  us  was  the 
extraordinary  expression  of  her  mouth,  always,  as  it 
were,  threatening  to  break  into  some  fierce  burst  of 
passion;  but  surrounded  with  an  incomparable  grace 
when  the  feelings  she  represents  are  of  joyous  character. 
The  deep,  sonorous  voice,  guttural  almost  by  the  strength 
of  its  intensity  and  vehemence,  next  rivets  the  atten- 
tion. But  the  paramount  power  she  wields  is  that  from 

267 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  moment  she  enters  on  the  stage  we  cannot  let  our 
eyes  leave  her  for  an  instant.  It  is  an  indescribable 
fascination.  We  feel  that  every  movement,  every  ges- 
ture, even  her  very  breathing  is  replete  with  some 
thought  which  we  fear  to  lose  if  she  passes  from  us. 

"  The  house  was  brilliantly  attended,"  declares  this 
reviewer  in  his  concluding  paragraph,  "  including  most 
of  the  distinguished  men  of  the  country,  and  being,  per- 
haps, the  most  severely  classic  before  which  Rachel  has 
ever  played.  There  was  but  one  feeling:  she  surpassed 
expectation;  and  the'  enthusiasm  of  shout  and  flowers 
in  which  it  found  expression  evidently  convinced  her 
that  the  American  people  know  how  to  appreciate  and 
reward  true  genius."  1 

Of  her  Phedre  the  Tribune  critic  writes  in  similar  strain, 
declaring  that  "  from  the  moment  of  Rachel's  coming 
on  the  stage  a  strange  feeling  of  melancholy  falls  on  the 
heart  at  witnessing  the  sufferings  which  rack  and  tor- 
ture her,  breaking  out  in  terrible  outline  on  every  linea- 
ment of  that  beautiful  face,  which  presents  a  picture  of 
anguish  such  as  Rubens  would  have  hung  over  with 
ecstasy." 

This  same  paper  devotes  nearly  three  columns,  on 
September  10,  to  praise  of  Rachel's  costumes  and  dia- 
monds, declaring  that  the  latter,  valued  at  $245,000, 
"  throw  such  a  lustre  over  the  stage,  when  she  enters 
as  Adrienne,  that  you  can  almost  fancy  you  see  one  of 
the  heroines,  clad  in  precious  stones  who  are  pictured 
around  the  court  of  Solomon."  The  jewels  worn  on  the 

1  For  "Adrienne  Lecouvreur"  the  crowd  was  "  so  dense  that  chairs 
were  placed  along  the  centre  pathway." 

268 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

actress's  turban  during  the  second  act  of  Adrienne  were 
presented  to  her,  we  are  then  told,  by  "  the  pious  and 
good  Queen  Amelia,  the  widow  of  Louis  Philippe.  .  .  . 
It  speaks  the  noblest  answer  to  lying  canards  which  small 
curs  bark  after  Rachel,  that  she  has  retained  through  life 
the  love  and  regard  of  this  model  Queen,  that  Rachel 
is  one  of  the  friends  with  whom  the  Queen  in  her  exile 
life  corresponds,  and  that  Rachel's  last  act,  before  leav- 
ing England,  was  to  visit  her  fallen  mistress,  to  whom  in 
her  sorrow  she  pays  even  a  deeper  homage  than  in  her 
royal  hour."  All  of  which  makes  it  fairly  clear  that  the 
New  York  Tribune,  at  any  rate,  had  been  quite  captivated 
by  Rachel. 

Colonel  T.  Allston  Brown  is  considerably  less  sure 
than  was  the  Tribune's  critic  that  the  great  French  actress 
made  an  unqualified  success  in  New  York.  "  Her  voice," 
he  declares  in  his  exhaustive  "  History  of  the  New  York 
Stage,"  "  was  no  longer  so  full  and  round  as  when  I  had 
seen  her  in  Paris  some  years  previously,  and  she  appeared, 
too,  not  to  have  fully  recovered  from  the  fatigue  of  her 
sea  voyage."  That  the  high  prices  militated  against  the 
visitor's  success,  this  chronicler  seems  in  no  doubt; 
and  he  declares  the  language  another  impediment.  The 
French  colony  in  New  York  was  a  small  one  then,  of 
course,  and  not  one  American  in  twenty,  probably,  had 
the  slightest  acquaintance  with  the  French  language. 
Then,  that  the  classics  presented  by  Rachel  necessitated 
no  change  of  scene  throughout  the  piece,  and  that  the 
curtain  failed  to  fall  between  the  acts,  was  obviously  very 
puzzling  to  many  of  those  present,  according  to  this 

269 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

reviewer.  Nor  did  he  find  the  actress  at  all  beautiful, 
though  he  admits  that  "  her  worn,  weary  aspect  and 
her  sad  mournful  eyes,  were  not  ill-suited  to  the  tragic 
roles  she  assumed."  1 

After  the  very  first,  Rachel  tried  to  fill  her  house  by 
a  reduction  of  the  high  prices  originally  demanded. 
She  even  sang  "  La  Marseillaise,"  at  the  end  of  each 
night's  play,  in  order  to  please  the  middle-class  play- 
goers, but  this  must  have  been  a  rather  dreary  business 
as  she  no  longer  possessed  anything  of  a  singing  voice. 
A  still  further  attempt  to  impress  the  people  who  did 
not  speak  French  2  or  approve  of  theatre-going  was  by 
means  of  "readings, "which  the  distinguished  tragedienne 
gave  at  the  Broadway  Tabernacle  on  her  off  nights. 

From  New  York  Rachel  went  to  Boston,  where  she 
made  her  debut,  October  27,  1855,  at  the  Boston  Theatre. 
Her  second  —  and  last  —  New  York  season  was  played 
partly  at  the  Academy  of  Music,  where  she  alternated 
with  Italian  opera,  and  partly  at  Niblo's  Theatre;  the 
latter  place  was  preferred  by  her  management  because 
it  was  a  smaller  house  and  easier  to  heat. 

It  was,  however,  at  Philadelphia,  not  New  York,  that 
she  experienced  the  chill  which  caused  her  death.  Her 
brother,  it  appears,  had  conceived  the  brilliant  idea  of 

1 "  History  of  the  New  York  Stage,"  Vol.  I,  p.  430. 

2  Even  the  critics  of  that  day  were  not  altogether  sure  of  their  French 
classics,  it  would  appear.  At  any  rate  we  find  the  Tribune's  representa- 
tive expressing  the  hope  (Monday,  September  10,  1855)  that  "  Messrs. 
Darcie  and  Corbyn  will,  for  the  future,  bring  out  their  excellent  books 
of  plays  in  fit  time.  '  Adrienne  Lecouvreur  '  was  not  brought  out  until 
half-past  three  on  the  evening  before  the  play,  and  from  not  having  had 
time  to  read  it  thoroughly,  we  committed  an  error  in  our  synopsis  of  the 
last  scene." 

270 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

saving  money  by  omitting  to  heat  the  Walnut  Street 
Theatre,  which  he  had  leased,  and,  on  an  extremely 
cold  night,  Rachel,  with  but  a  slight  covering  over  her 
shoulders,  sat  in  the  wings  at  a  table  near  the  prompter, 
studying  the  book  of  the  play  in  a  temperature  of  about 
forty  degrees.  Next  morning  she  awoke  gasping  with 
pneumonia.  She  recovered  sufficiently  to  sail  for  Charles- 
ton, S.  C.,  where  she  was  able  to  give  one  performance 
of  "  Adrienne  Lecouvreur,"  (December  17,  1855),  but 
that  proved  to  be  her  last  appearance  on  any  stage. 
Finding  it  useless  to  try  to  act,  she  returned  to  Europe, 
took  up  her  residence  at  the  Villa  Sarden,  Cannes,  and 
there  died,  almost  alone,  January  5,  1858. 

Of  Rachel's  last  New  York  appearance —  at  Niblo's l 
-  the  Tribune  wrote: 

"  New  York  has  confirmed  with  a  rare  enthusiasm 
the  flattering  verdict  which  Paris,  London,  Berlin  and 
St.  Petersburg  had  already  pronounced  upon  the  genius 
of  this  great  tragedienne.  She  has  performed  in  this 
city  twenty-nine  times  to  houses  which  certainly  on  the 
average,  taken  at  the  very  lowest,  have  yielded  three 
thousand  dollars  each  night.  .  .  .  This,  we  can  say 
from  a  pretty  accurate  knowledge  of  Mile.  Rachel's 
receipts  at  the  capitals  of  Europe,  is  far  away  the  larg- 
est amount  she  has  ever  received  for  a  similar  number 
of  nights'  performances,  confirming  the  fact  which  the 
experience  of  every  really  great  artist  who  has  visited 
this  country  attests,  that  in  no  other  is  genius  so  highly 
appreciated  or  magnificently  rewarded.  The  visit  of 
Rachel  cannot  but  have  a  permanent  literary,  as  well 
as  artistic  influence." 

1  On  November  17,  1855. 
271 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

It  was  estimated  that  some  thirty  thousand  people, 
at  least,  in  the  city,  would  have  read  a  tragedy  of  Cor- 
neille  or  Racine  as  a  result  of  this  actress's  visit.  And 
New  York  had  previously  been  quite  innocent  of  the 
French  classics! 

In  a  very  sprightly  and  diverting  volume  made  up  of 
contributions  sent  to  the  Figaro  by  Leon  Beauvallet, 
who  was  a  member  of  Rachel's  company,  we  get  a 
number  of  "  inside  "  glimpses  into  the  ups  and  downs  of 
this  American  adventure.  The  ship  on  which  the  com- 
pany sailed  from  Liverpool  was  named  the  Pacific.  The 
first  hardship  encountered  was  by  reason  of  "  the  strange 
and  unnatural  marriages  "  between  diverse  food-stuffs  — 
"  rice  mixed  with  rhubarb,  cream  with  gooseberries,"  and 
the  like.  Rachel,  finding  herself  "  not  sea-sick  but  very 
ill  at  ease,"  kept  her  cabin  for  the  greater  part  of  the 
voyage,  refusing  even  to  be  diverted  by  the  gift  of  a 
large  box  of  American  perfumery,  presented  to  her  in 
mid-ocean  by  an  admirer  on  board. 

For  the  captain's  dinner,  however,  the  great  tragedi- 
enne graciously  condescended  to  emerge  and  to  take  her 
seat  in  the  place  of  supreme  honour.  In  the  course  of 
this  dinner,  Rachel  was  toasted,  we  learn,  by  A.  T. 
Stewart,  "  worth  forty  millions."  But  she  would  not 
make  a  speech  —  either  in  poor  English  or  excellent 
French. 

The  hotel  at  which  the  gifted  one  put  up  on  landing  was 
the  St.  Nicholas  on  Broadway;  and  here,  at  midnight, 
she  was  aroused  by  a  belated  band  come  to  serenade  her. 
But  the  day  following  the  tribe  of  Felix  disposed  itself 

272 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

in  separate  lodgings  in  various  parts  of  the  town.  "This," 
says  our  lively  chronicler,  "  did  not  fail  to  excite  the 
inquisitiveness  of  all  the  New  York  tattlers,"  and  there 
was  profuse  speculation  on  the  subject.  But  the  only 
explanation  offered  was  that  "  the  Felix  family  lived 
thus  separately  —  because  they  lived  separately;  that 
was  all." 

M.  Beauvallet  was  not  much  impressed  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  gentlemen  at  Rachel's  debut.  He  found 
them  to  be  "  dressed  very  simply  and  all  a  good  deal 
troubled  by  the  fact  that  they  have  ripped  their  gloves." 
The  ladies,  however,  were  all  "  in  ball-dress,"  with 
"  diamonds  by  the  shovelful  and  flowers  as  if  it  rained 
flowers." 

Then  follows  an  amusing  account  of  the  obvious 
boredom  of  the  New  Yorkers  while  the  piece  preceding 
the  tragedy  was  given,  and  a  graphic  picture  of  the  way 
in  which  they  all  then  "  listened  "  to  Corneille  —  turning 
over  their  pamphlet  translations  in  concert,  "  as  if  a  regi- 
ment in  black  uniform  was  executing  a  military  order." 

When  Rachel  appeared,  she  was  greeted  "  by  three  or 
four  salvos  of  applause  —  only.  The  Americans  ap- 
peared to  consider  it  a  matter  of  course  that  the  French 
tragedienne  should  leave  her  native  land  and  risk  her 
life  to  have  the  pleasure  of  repeating  poetry  in  the 
country  of  Washington  and  Benjamin  Franklin.  .  .  . 
Tragedy,  we  all  perceived  that  first  night,  is  not  to  the 
American  taste." 

Meanwhile  the  sale  of  novelties  upon  which  the  name 
of  the  great  tragedienne  had  been  hastily  imposed,  went 

273 


TTie  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

on  merrily.  A  Broadway  restaurant  keeper  offered 
pudding  d  la  Rachel;  a  lady's  shoemaker  displayed 
gaiters  d  la  Rachel;  there  were  coiffeurs  d  la  Rachel,  and 
fruit  dealers  even  produced  from  somewhere  a  melon  d 
la  Raphael  Felix. 

Raphael  Felix  was  greatly  in  need  of  some  such  sooth- 
ing flattery.  For  though  at  first  he  did  a  thriving  busi- 
ness exchanging  American  dollars  for  little  pieces  of 
pasteboard  at  his  office  on  Wall  Street,  by  September 
25,  the  eleventh  night,  he  was  very  glad,  M.  Beauvallet 
assures  us,  to  sell  places  at  $1.50  each  for  a  "  Reading  " 
by  Mile.  Rachel  at  the  Broadway  Tabernacle.  "  But  it  is 
a  horrible  thing  to  recite  tragic  Alexandrines  in  a  black 
dress,  and  especially  to  recite  them  in  a  sort  of  church!  " 

Boston  suited  M.  Beauvallet  —  and  it  is  to  be  hoped 
Mile.  Rachel  also  —  much  better  than  New  York.  The 
star  made  her  headquarters,  while  in  the  modern  Athens, 
at  the  Tremont  House  and  played  at  the  Boston  Theatre.1 
An  election  was  in  progress  at  the  time  of  her  visit,  and 
the  actor  journalist  describes  with  true  Gallic  wit  the 
"  naivete  of  the  candidates  who  have  their  portraits 
painted  in  distemper,  on  huge  transparencies,  to  capti- 
vate the  voters."  But  the  voting  did  not  interfere  with 
Rachel's  houses  nor  with  the  "  splendid  toilettes  "  and 
"  the  long  line  of  private  carriages  drawn  up  before  the 
theatre  in  honour  of  the  occasion." 

1  This  playhouse,  which  still  stands  on  Washington  Street,  was  opened 
September  n,  1854.  It  was  then  the  largest  and  most  elegant  theatre 
in  the  country.  On  gala  occasions  a  dancing-floor  could  be  fitted 
over  the  orchestra-chairs  and  the  house  used  as  a  ball-room.  It  was 
so  used  when  the  Prince  of  Wales  visited  this  country  in  1860. 

274 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

What  did  interfere  with  the  receipts  was  (i)  the  re- 
sentment felt  by  the  press  because  certain  of  its  rep- 
resentatives had  been  given  poor  seats,  and  (2)  the 
indignation  of  the  public,  because  speculation  in  tickets 
was  tolerated  by  the  management.  M.  Raphael  Felix 
and  his  associates  were  even  inelegantly  characterized 
as  sangsues  d?  Europe.1 

To  her  mother  Rachel  wrote  the  following  letter 
descriptive  of  her  satisfaction  with  America: 

"  New  York,  September  25,  1855. 
"  DEAR  AND  TENDER  MOTHER,  - 

"  I  received  on  my  arrival  in  New  York  your  letter, 
or  rather  your  letters,  by  which  I  learn  of  the  joy  you 
experienced  in  getting  mine  written  on  board  the  Pacific. 
Well,  you  may  continue  to  be  joyful  since  I  have  not  felt 
so  well  for  fifteen  years.  I  eat  and  sleep  like  a  child; 
I  play  tragedy  with  Herculean  force  —  and  I  am  growing 
fat!  !  ! 

"So  do  you  take  care,  dear  Mamma,  that  you  keep 
yourself  solidly  enough  on  your  two  legs  to  support  my 
kisses  on  my  return  for  /  shall  be  strong  enough  to  over- 
turn the  station  at  Paris  at  that  moment  when  I  see  you 
there  on  the  platform  with  my  children.  Great  Heav- 
ens, how  far  I  am  still  from  that  moment,  the  eighth  of 
March.  But  then,  isn't  it  better  to  pass  the  time  in  a 
climate  which  suits  me  so  well  than  to  suffer  at  Paris  as 
I  have  suffered,  or  to  be  sent  at  a  moment's  notice  into 
the  south  by  that  worthy  body  of  French  physicians 

1  It  was,  besides,  a  "  week  of  jubilee  "  in  Boston,  and  the  stockhold- 
ers^of  the  theatre,  therefore,  were  resentful  that  their  splendid  house, 
which  might  have  brought  in  seven  or  eight  thousand  dollars  by  the 
employment  of  the  stock  actors,  netted  them  "  only  $500  a  night  or 
perhaps  less."  Rachel's  receipts  averaged  over  $3500  a  night  for  her 
eight  performances. 

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The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

who,  when  they  don't  know  how  to  cure  sick  people, 
send  them  '  out  of  this  place '  to  make  them  die  else- 
where. 

"  It  sha'n't  be  so  with  me;  I  am  coming  back  to  laugh 
in  their  faces  and  I  hope  to  live  as  long  as  —  my  old 
aunts!  All  my  love  to  you,  dear  Mother,  and  to  my 
dear  little  ones."  l 

A  month  later,  in  a  letter  from  Boston,  she  admits 
great  weariness  and  confesses  that,  by  reason  of  having 
taken  cold  in  the  train,  she  is  coughing  "  like  the  con- 
sumptive which  she  is  not."  Her  physicians  meanwhile 
testified,  as  we  find  in  the  Boston  Advertiser  of  October 
31,  1855,  that  she  was  "  affected  with  an  irritation  of  the 
lungs  too  severe  for  her  appearance."  When  she  re- 
covered sufficiently  to  play  and  —  at  her  last  Boston 
performance  —  to  sing  the  Marseillaise,  wrapped  in  the 
folds  of  *  the  tri-colour  flag,  she  excited  "plaudit  after 
plaudit  from  the  packed  house." 

To  turn  from  Rachel's  lively  letters  to  a  sober  recital 
of  biographical  facts  is  to  get  back  to  earth  with  a  thud. 
^Yet,  of  course,  it  must  be  written  down  here  that  Elisa 
Rachel  Felix  was  the  daughter  of  a  Jewish  pedler,  who 
was  wont  to  wander  through  Germany,  France,  and 
Switzerland,  in  the  twenties  of  the  last  century,  struggling 
constantly  to  sell  enough  of  his  wares  to  satisfy  the 
hunger  of  his  young  and  growing  family.  While  the 
pedler's  cart  was  halted  at  Munf  in  Switzerland,  Mere 
Felix  withdrew  to  the  "  Golden  Sun  "  inn  and  there, 
on  March  24,  1821,  presented  her  husband  with  the 

1  Rachel  d'apres  sa  correspondence:  Paris,  1882. 
276 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

daughter  who  was  afterwards  to  make  the  fortunes  of 
the  whole  tribe  of  Felix.  That  the  child  was  a  potential 
gold-mine  was  not  then  realized.  Not,  indeed,  until  the 
family,  still  scarcely  above  the  pauper  line,  had  been 
living  for  some  years  in  Paris  — Rachel  and  her  sister 
singing  in  the  streets  for  bread  —  did  Rachel's  power 
become  apparent.  Then  Choron,  a  music-master,  took 
an  interest  in  her  and  secured  for  her  a  place  in  a  dramatic 
class.  Here  Mademoiselle  Mars  heard  her,  at  the  age  of 
fifteen,  recite  with  such  fire  the  lines  from  Hermione 
in  "  Andromaque  "  that  she  interested  herself  to  get 
the  child  into  the  Comedie —  to  play  children's  characters. 
But  Rachel  had  no  mind  to  undertake  this  line  of  work, 
and  it  was  not  until  she  had  made  something  of  a  name 
for  herself,  at  the  Gymnase  Theatre,  that  she  began  a  last- 
ing connection  with  the  Comedie.  Here,  on  June  12, 1838, 
she  made  her  real  debut,  the  part  being  that  of  Camille 
in  Corneille's  tragedy  "  Les  Horaces  "  —  the  very  part 
in  which  she  was  to  take  America  by  storm  seventeen 
years  later. 

It  was  Jules  Janin,  the  great  French  critic,  the  future 
enemy  of  Fechter,  who  first  called  attention  to  Rachel's 
extraordinary  talent,  by  proclaiming  her: 

"  The  most  marvellous  actress  (although  still  only  a 
child)  that  this  generation  has  seen  on  the  stage.  .  .  . 
It  is  nothing  short  of  marvellous,  this  uneducated  child, 
without  art,  without  preparation  of  any  kind,  thus  be- 
coming the  interpreter  of  our  grand  old  tragedies.  She 
blows  their  ashes  into  a  flame  by  her  genius  and  energy; 
and  remember,  she  is  small,  ugly,  with  a  narrow  chest, 

277 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

an  insignificant  appearance,  and  common  speech.  Do 
not  ask  her  who  Tancrede,  Horace,  Hermione  are,  or 
about  the  Trojan  war,  or  Pyrrhus,  or  Helen.  She  knows 
nothing;  but  she  has  that  which  is  better  than  knowl- 
edge. She  has  that  sudden  illumination  which  she  throws 
about  her;  she  grows  ten  inches  taller  on  the  stage;  she 
raises  her  voice  and  extends  her  chest;  her  eyes  brighten; 
she  treads  like  a  sovereign;  her  voice  vibrates,  instinct 
with  the  passion  that  agitates  her." 

Such  praise  soon  crowded  the  theatre  and  made  it 
possible  for  Pere  Felix  to  draw  some  sixty  thousand 
francs  a  year  because  of  his  daughter's  talents.1 

No  characterization  that  I  have  seen  of  Rachel's  as- 
tonishing talent  seems  to  me  so  striking  as  that  of  George 
Henry  Lewes  when  he  declared  her  "  the  panther  of  the 
stage." 

"  She  moved  and  stood  and  glared  and  sprang,"  he 
says,  "  with  a  panther's  terrible  and  undulating  grace. 
There  always  seemed  something  not  human  about  her. 
She  seemed  made  of  different  clay  from  her  fellows  - 
beautiful  but  not  lovable.  Her  range  was  very  limited 
but  her  expression  was  perfect  within  that  range.  Scorn, 
triumph,  rage,  lust  and  merciless  malignity  she  could 
represent  in  symbols  of  irresistible  power;  but  she  had 
little  tenderness,  no  womanly  caressing,  softness,  no 
gaiety,  no  heartiness.  She  was  so  graceful  and  so  power- 

1  One  American  actress,  Anna  Cora  Mo  watt,  who  saw  Rachel  about 
this  time,  has  recorded  that  there  was  something  terrific,  something 
overwhelming  in  all  her  characters.  "  From  the  moment  she  came  upon 
the  stage,"  she  writes,  "  I  was  always  under  the  influence  of  a  spell. 
Her  eyes  had  the  power  of  a  basilisk's  upon  me,  and  flashed  with  an  in- 
tense brightness  which  no  basilisk's  could  have  rivalled.  I  never  expect 
to  see  that  acting  equalled  —  to  surpass  it  in  impassioned  force  and 
grandeur,  appears  to  me  impossible." 

278 


MLLE.    RACHEL 
After  the  painting  by  Lehmann 

See  page  266 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

ful  that  her  air  of  dignity  was  incomparable;  but, 
somehow,  you  always  felt  in  her  presence  an  indefinable 
suggestion  of  latent  wickedness.  The  finest  of  her  per- 
formances was  Phedre.  Nothing  I  have  ever  seen  sur- 
passed this  picture  of  a  soul  torn  by  the  conflicts  of  in- 
cestuous passion  and  struggling  conscience;  the  unutter- 
able mournfulness  of  her  look  and  tone  as  she  recognized 
the  guilt  of  her  desires,  yet  felt  herself  so  possessed  by 
them  that  escape  was  impossible,  are  things  never  to 
be  forgotten.  Whoever  saw  Rachel  play  Phedre  may 
be  pardoned  if  he  doubt  whether  he  will  ever  see  such 
acting  again." 

Rachel  did  not  undertake  this,  her  greatest  role,  until 
1843,  when  she  was  fresh  from  the  experiences  of  being 
abandoned  by  Walewski,  one  of  Napoleon's  natural 
sons.  Two  years  earlier  she  had  made  her  great  artistic 
and  social  career  in  London.1  Of  her  then,  Fanny 
Kemble,  who  knew  acting  when  she  saw  it,  has  this  to 
say: 

"  Everybody  here  is  now  raving  about  her.  .  .  .  Her 
appearance  is  very  striking;  she  is  of  a  very  good  height, 
too  thin  for  beauty  but  not  for  dignity  or  grace;  her 
want  of  chest  and  breadth,  indeed,  almost  suggest  a 
tendency  to  pulmonary  disease,  coupled  with  her  pallor 
and  her  youth.  ...  I  was  very  much  pleased  with  her 
quiet  grace  and  dignity,  the  excellent  bon  ton  of  her 

1  At  the  time  of  this  visit  to  London,  Rachel  still  bore  an  unblemished 
reputation  as  a  woman.  Her  admission  into  good  society  would  not 
otherwise  have  been  possible.  "  For  our  fine  ladies,"  says  Sir  Theodore 
Martin,  in  this  connection,  "  had  not  as  yet  been  so  completely  educated 
out  of  the  simplest  rules  of  propriety  as  not  to  be  startled  by  the  an- 
nouncement of  an  actress,  ushered  into  their  drawing-room  as  '  Mile. 
Sarah  Bernhardt  et  son  fils.'  " 

279 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

manners.  .  .  .  She  is  completely  the  rage  in  London 
now;  all  the  fine  ladies  and  gentlemen  crazy  after  her, 
the  Queen  throwing  her  roses  on  the  stage  out  of  her 
own  bouquet,  and  viscountesses  and  marchionesses 
driving  her  about  a  Venvie  Vune  de  I'autre,  to  show  her 
all  the  lions  of  the  town." 

All  these  happyfying  attentions  from  the  English 
nobility  —  the  most  interesting  of  which  was  perhaps 
the  call  and  complimentary  note  of  the  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton —  did  not,  however,  prevent  this  brilliant  young 
creature  from  receiving  a  very  rude  shock  just  as  she 
was  about  to  return  to  France.  "  The  name  of  the  dis- 
ease from  which  I  have  been  four  days  in  bed,  is  hem- 
orrhage," she  explained  in  a  letter  home.  And  we  all 
know,  if  Rachel  did  not,  that  hemorrhage  is  generally 
the  prelude  of  pulmonary  consumption. 

She  did,  indeed,  "  live  on  some  days  "  —  even  some 
years,  after  this  attack.  But  life  was  no  more  "  beauti- 
ful "  for  her,  and  it  was  finally  with  real  relief  that  she 
breathed  her  last  early  in  1858,  in  the  France  "  whose 
language  she  had  saved  from  destruction." 

With  Rachel  in  Paris  had  acted,  as  a  youth,  the  next 
distinguished  star  to  burst  upon  our  vision  —  Charles 
Albert  Fechter.  "  Magnetic  glamour  "  John  Coleman 
has  concisely  declared  to  be  the  most  striking  character- 
istic of  this  man.  One  almost  catches  the  magnetism 
as  one  absorbs  this  pen  picture  of  him:  Fechter  was 
"  of  middle  height;  figure  more  sturdy  than  elegant; 
features  distinctly  Hebraic,  vivacious,  expressive,  power- 
ful, changeful  as  the  colour  of  a  chameleon's  skin; 

280 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

olive-complexioned;  piercing  but  penetrating  eyes,  now 
melting  with  the  languor  of  love,  now  ablaze  with  the 
lurid  light  of  hell;  firm,  well-cut  mouth,  which  opened 
and  shut  like  the  jaws  of  a  bull-dog;  massive  head  with  a 
thatch  of  dark  brown  hair;  bull  neck,  splendidly  poised, 
but  a  little  too  short.  Such  was  Fechter  when  first  I 
beheld  him.  He  was  then  a  man  of  forty  but,  had  I  not 
known  it,  I  should  have  guessed  him  five  and  twenty  at 
the  outside.  At  first  the  voice  seemed  guttural,  the 
French  accent  unendurable,  but  it  was  only  at  first. 
After  a  few  moments  the  voice  made  music  and  I  forgot 
all  about  the  accent. " 

An  Englishman  by  birth,1  with  a  German  name  which 
he  insisted  upon  pronouncing  as  if  it  were  French, 
Charles  Fechter  ("  Fayshtair  "  he  wished  it  to  be  called) 
certainly  had  in  him  enough  cross-strains  to  produce 
a  temperamental  character.  The  man's  art,  however, 
was  pre-eminently  French,  and  French,  too,  was  in 
childhood  his  mother-tongue,  though  he  taught  him- 
self to  speak  English  fluently  and  with  a  generally  cor- 
rect accent.  The  lad's  father  intended  him  to  be  a 
sculptor,  but  the  lure  of  the  theatre  early  made  its 
successful  appeal,  and  by  the  time  that  Charles  was 
twenty  he  was  acting  at  the  Theatre  Francais  with  Rachel. 
But  advancement  did  not  here  come  as  rapidly  as  he 
desired,  so  he  set  off  to  play  for  a  season  in  Berlin.  All 
the  ways,  works,  and  words  of  Germany,  however,  were 

1  He  was  born  in  London,  October  23,  1824,  but  was  sent  to  a  French 
school  as  a  child;  and,  by  the  time  his  school-days  were  over,  his  parents 
were  living  in  Paris. 

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The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

distasteful  to  him  then  and  always,  and  he  therefore 
proceeded  (in  1847)  to  assail  London.  There,  for  four 
months,  he  acted  at  the  St.  James  Theatre  with  such 
success  that  the  Queen  and  Prince  Consort  were  con- 
stantly among  his  auditors. 

It  was  not  until  ten  years  later,  though,  and  after  he 
had  made  a  very  great  success  in  Paris  in  the  "  Corsican 
Brothers  "  and  as  Armand  Duval  in  Dumas's  "  Dame 
aux  Camelias,"  that  Fechter  took  London  permanently 
by  storm.  Then,  at  the  Princess's  Theatre,  he  played 
Ruy  Bias  in  English  to  overflowing  houses,  and  having 
for  four  months  studied  the  stern  Anglo-Saxon  tongue 
for  sixteen  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four,  on  March  20, 
1 86 1,  essayed  Hamlet. 

No  one  had  ever  played  Hamlet  at  all  as  Fechter 
played  it,  and  in  every  drawing-room  his  conception 
of  the  part  and  the  Saxon  aspect  he  gave  the  Prince  - 
with  fair  face  and  light  flowing  hair  —  proved  the 
"  open  sesame  "  to  conversation.  For  one  hundred  and 
fifty  nights  his  interpretation  .of  the  tragedy  held 
London. 

Charles  Dickens  has  said  that  "  no  innovation  in  art 
was  ever  accepted  with  so  much  favour  by  so  many  in- 
tellectual persons,  pre-committed  to  and  pre-occupied 
by  another  system  as  Fechter's  Hamlet."  Blackwood's 
Magazine  (in  1861)  declares  this  Hamlet  the  very  best  its 
critic  had  ever  seen.  Yet  it  would  appear  to  have  been 
Fechter's  "  magnetic  glamour  "  rather  than  his  under- 
standing of  Hamlet's  character  which  swept  his  auditors 
off  their  feet.  Henry  Austin  Clapp,  a  Boston  critic 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

of  the  nineteenth  century,  records  that,  one  day,  while 
talking  with  the  actor  about  his  interpretation  of  the 
Danish  prince,  and  trying  to  make  him  understand  why 
he  (Clapp)  had  disagreed  with  his  conception  of  the  part, 
he  discovered  that  Fechter  actually  did  not  know  the 
meaning  of  some  of  the  English  words  upon  which  his 
interpretation  turned.  This  prince,  Fechter  insisted, 
did  not  procrastinate  but  pursued  his  task  with  vigour. 
"  Do  you  not  recall,"  he  urged,  "  the  words  of  Hamlet's 
mother  in  the  Queen's  closet:  £  I  come  to  wet  thy  al- 
most blunted  purpose?  '  It  was  thus  made  plain  that 
Fechter  had  never  distinguished  "  whet  "  from  "  wet  " 
and  that  he  had  no  notion  of  the  force  of  "  blunted." 
"  His  idea  was  that  the  Ghost's  declared  purpose  was  to 
1  wet '  down  and  so  reduce  the  excessive  flame  of  Hamlet's 
zeal."  1 

Hamlet,  however,  was  only  one  of  the  many  successes 
Fechter  made  in  England  at  this  time.  Assuming  the 
lesseeship  of  the  Lyceum,  he  presented  for  very  long 
runs,  "  The  Duke's  Motto,"  "  Ruy  Bias,"  "  The  Lady 
of  Lyons,"  his  own  drama  "  Rouge  et  Noir  "  (founded  on 
"  Thirty  Years  of  a  Gambler's  Life  "),  "  Monte  Cristo," 
and  "  Black  and  White,"  which  he  had  written  in  cola- 
boration  with  Wilkie  Collins.  None  the  less,  there  would 
seem  to  be  some  truth  in  Clapp's  conjecture  that,  since 
Fechter  definitely  abandoned  England  for  America,  when 
he  came  over  here  in  1870,  he  must  have  felt  that  he 
had  outworn  the  best  of  his  favour  in  the  British  Isles. 

Here,  people  promptly  went  mad  over  the  man  just 

1  "  Reminiscences  of  a  Dramatic  Critic." 

283 


The.  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

as  they  had  done  in  London.  To  be  sure,  the  critics,  led 
by  William  Winter,  disapproved,  for  the  most  part,  of 
the  way  in  which  he  acted  "  Hamlet,"  but  the  crowd,  cap- 
tivated by  his  "  romantic  glamour,"  raved  over  his 
Ruy  Bias  and  Claude  Melnotte  and  would  not  keep  away 
from  the  theatre  even  when  "  Hamlet  "  was  the  bill. 
Boston  accepted  the  new  star  with  the  rapture  it  usually 
accords  only  to  turbanned  prophets  of  some  new  religion. 
Mr.  Arthur  Cheney  made  him  general  manager  of  his 
Globe  Theatre;  an  admirable  actress,  Carlotta  Leclerq, 
was  engaged  as  his  leading  lady;  to  James  W.  Wallack 
were  given  the  second  leading  parts,  and  for  a  short 
time  it  looked  as  though  Boston  was  to  enjoy  a  season  of 
unprecedented  dramatic  interest.  Unhappily,  however, 
Fechter's  "  artistic  temperament  "  utterly  disqualified 
him  for  success  as  a  manager,  dissensions  ensued,  and 
on  January  14,  1871,  he  appeared  at  the  Globe  for  the 
last  time.  Subsequently  for  a  number  of  years  he  played 
his  old  parts  in  many  American  cities,  and  once  he  even 
returned  to  England.  But  his  vogue  was  over,  and  the 
death-blow  was  given  to  his  "  romantic  glamour," 
when,  in  1876,  he  fell  on  the  ice  and  broke  his  leg.  After 
that  he  appeared  publicly  only  on  rare  occasions,  living, 
for  the  most  part,  in  utter  retirement  on  the  farm  which 
he  had  bought  in  July,  1873.  Fechter  had  always  said 
that  his  crowning  ambition  was  "  to  keep  a  farm  and 
carters." 

Coleman  relates  l  that  an  English  actor,  while  playing 
in  Philadelphia,  was  one  day  waited  upon  by  "  a  some- 

1  "  Players  and  Playwrights  I  Have  Known,"  by  John  Coleman. 

284 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

what  obese  agriculturist  in  a  long  coat  of  homespun  and 
a  broad  brimmed  hat.  The  visitor  proved  to  be  Fechter, 
who  had  come  to  seize  and  bear  away  his  old  friend  to  his 
farm  of  fifty-seven  acres  at  Rockland  Centre  in  Bucks 
county.  The  Englishman  met  with  a  hearty  welcome. 
Dogs  and  guns  and  fishing-rods  abounded,  but  the  great 
actor's  heart  was  far  away.  His  spasmodic  fits  of  gaiety 
were  varied  by  intervals  of  sadness  and  silence.  The 
mere  mention  of  his  meteoric  career  in  England  came  back 
upon  and  stabbed  him.  .  .  .  The  world  had  been  at  his 
feet;  he  had  been  saturated  with  praise,  surfeited  with 
adulation;  he  had  been  idolized  by  women,  envied  by 
men;  his  friends  and  intimates  had  been  the  '  choice  and 
master  spirits  of  the  age  '  and  now  - 

'  After  all,'  growled  he  savagely,  '  Charles  V  re- 
tired to  die  in  a  monastery;  why  shouldn't  Charles 
Fechter  die  in  a  farmhouse?  '  Then  with  a  sudden 
transition  to  tearful  tenderness,  he  continued:  'When 
you  get  back  to  England,  if  you  see  any  one  who  cares 
for  poor  Charley  —  man  or  woman  —  give  my  love  to 
'em;  and  now,  good-bye,  old  fellow.'  " 

Fechter  died  August  5,  1879.  Not  long  afterward 
John  McCullough  erected  to  his  memory,  in  the  cemetery 
at  Philadelphia,  a  monument  surmounted  by  a  bust  of  the 
gifted  actor  and  crowned  with  a  laurel  wreath.  On  the 
base  of  the  marble  are  inscribed  these  words: 

"  Genius  has  taken  its  flight  to  God." 


285 


CHAPTER  XII 

VISITING   STARS    OF   A    LATER  DAY 

THE  impetus  to  Rachel's  visit  to  America  had  been 
given  by  the  tremendous  success  which  Ristori,  an 
Italian  actress,  had  made  in  Paris.  Adelaide  Ristori  was 
born  in  an  obscure  town  of  Italy,  January  29,  1822, 
her  parents  being  humble  comedians.  When  only  four 
years  old  she  played  children's  parts,  and  at  the  age  of 
twenty  had  attained  distinction  at  Parma.  Later  she 
was  successful  at  Leghorn,  her  talent  at  this  period  being 
in  comedy,  and  her  favourite  plays  the  works  of  Gol- 
doni.  In  1847  she  married  Marquis  Capranica  del 
Grillo,  and  for  about  two  years  withdrew  from  the  pro- 
fession. During  the  siege  of  Rome  she  laboured  as  a 
sister  of  charity  in  the  hospitals. 

The  year  1850  found  her  again  on  the  stage,  however, 
playing  "  Francesca  di  Rimini  "  and  "  Mary  Stuart  " 
in  the  Italian  cities;  and  in  1855  she  made  a  debut  in 
Paris,  where  she  immediately  scored  a  great  success. 
Subsequently,  she  appeared  in  Spain,  Holland,  St.  Peters- 
burg, Berlin,  and  Constantinople.  She  visited  America 
for  the  first  time  in  1866.  Then  she  came  again  in  1874 
and  still  again  in  1884.  It  is  sad  to  note  that  at  the  time 

286 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

of  this  last  tour  she  had  lost  her  ability  to  hold  an 
audience. 

From  Ristori's  own  pen  l  we  have  a  delightful  account 
of  these  visits  to  America. 

"  In  the  beginning  of  September,  1866,"  she  writes, 
"  I  visited,  for  the  first  time,  J;he  United  States,  where  I 
remained  until  the  iyth  of  May  of  the  following  year. 
Great  was  my  impatience  to  reach  that  country  and  to 
be  the  first  to  carry  my  own  language  into  the  noble 
land  of  Washington,  where,  in  the  midst  of  a  feverish 
devotion  to  industry  and  commerce,  the  arts  and  sci- 
ences still  held  a  prominent  place. 

"  I  commenced  at  the  Lyric  Theatre  in  New  York  on 
the  2oth  of  September  with  c  Medea.'  I  could  not  have 
wished  for  a  warmer  welcome  than  that  which  there 
greeted  me.  .  .  .  Leaving  New  York,  I  was  summoned 
to  all  the  cities,  large  and  small,  of  the  States. 

"  .  .  .  In  North  America  there  are  invariably  two 
weekly  afternoon  performances,  Saturday  and  Wednes- 
day. The  passing  stars  appear  on  those  days  in  a  house 
wholly  filled  by  the  fair  sex.  Their  applause  is  naturally 
less  noisy  and  more  modest,  but  the  bravos  are  always 
given  with  much  intelligence  and  at  the  right  moment. 
The  young  girls  came  in  such  crowds  to  my  perform- 
ances that  I  was  often  obliged  to  order  the  removal  of 
the  wings  to  make  room  for  them  even  on  the  stage. 
I  tried  to  measure  my  play  in  such  a  manner  that  my 
neighbours  should  not  lose  a  single  movement.0 

In  1885  Ristori  was  again  in  the  United  States,  and 
during  this  visit  she  had  "  the  satisfaction  of  playing 
1  Macbeth '  with  the  renowned  actor,  Edwin  Booth, 

1  "  Adelaide  Ristori:  An  Autobiography."     Doubleday,  Page  &  Co. 

,287 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  Talma  of  the  United  States."  This  performance 
occurred  at  the  Academy  of  Music  in  New  York,  on 
May  7.  Ristori  herself  writes  that  "  it  was  a  most  ar- 
tistic event  and  the  people  came  in  eager  crowds,  filling 
that  immense  hall  to  its  utmost  capacity."  Another 
interesting  event  of  this  New  York  visit  was  her  acting 
of  Schiller's  "  Mary  Stuart  "  in  English  to  the  support 
of  a  German  company.1  The  artist  records  with  much 
satisfaction  her  experiences,  at  this  time,  with  an 
"  American  compartment-car,  equipped  with  a  piano, 
a  library,  a  china-closet,  pictures  and  flowering  plants." 
Here  she  and  her  company  lived  for  the  better  part  of 
five  months  "  as  in  one's  own  home  or  on  board  a  yacht." 
Fanny  Kemble  has  left  us  a  vivid  description  of  the 
way  in  which  Ristori  was  rushed  about  in  this  car  by 
her  managers,  during  her  last  visit  to  America,  and 
comments  on  the  deterioration  in  the  great  Italian's 
acting  which  inevitably  resulted. 

"  I  went  to  see  a  morning  performance  of  '  Elizabeta 
dTngleterra '  by  her.  Arriving  at  the  theatre  half  an 
hour  before  the  time  announced  for  the  performance,  I 
found  notices  affixed  to  the  entrances,  stating  that  the 
beginning  was  unavoidably  detained  by  Madame  Ris- 
tori's  non-arrival.  The  crowd  of  expectant  spectators 
occupied  their  seats  and  bore  this  prolonged  postpone- 
ment with  American  —  i.  e.  unrivalled  —  patience,  good- 
temper  and  civility.  We  were  encouraged  by  two  or 
three  pieces  of  information  from  some  official  person- 
ages, who,  from  the  stage,  assured  us  that  the  moment 

1  In  Boston,  at  the  Boston  Theatre,  she  played  in  Italian  while  her 
support  did  their  parts  in  English. 

288 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Madame  Ristori  arrived  (she  was  coming  by  railroad  from 
Baltimore)  the  play  would  begin.  Then  came  a  tele- 
gram, she  was  coming;  then  an  announcement,  she  was 
come;  and  driving  from  the  terminus  straight  to  the 
theatre,  tired  and  harassed  herself  with  the  delay,  she 
dressed  herself  and  appeared  before  her  audience,  went 
through  a  part  of  extraordinary  length  and  difficulty 
and  exertion  —  almost,  indeed,  a  monologue  —  including 
the  intolerable  fatigue  and  hurry  of  four  or  five  entire 
changes  of  costume,  and  as  the  curtain  dropped,  rushed 
off  to  disrobe  and  catch  a  train  to  New  York,  where  she 
was  to  act  the  next  morning,  if  not  the  evening  of  the 
same  day.  I  had  seen  Madame  Ristori  in  this  part  in 
England,  and  was  shocked  at  the  great  difference  in  the 
merit  of  her  performance.  Every  particle  of  careful 
elaboration  and  fine  detail  of  workmanship  was  gone; 
the  business  of  the  piece  was  hurried  through,  with  ref- 
erence, of  course,  only  to  the  time  in  which  it  could  be 
achieved;  and  of  Madame  Ris tori's  once  fine  delineation 
of  the  character,  which,  when  I  first  saw  it,  atoned  for 
the  little  merit  of  the  piece  itself,  nothing  remained  but 
the  coarse  clap-trap  points  in  the  several  principal  situa- 
tions, made  coarse  and  not  nearly  as  striking  even,  by 
the  absence  of  due  preparation  and  working  up  to  them, 
the  careless  rendering  of  everything  else,  and  the  slurring 
over  the  finer  minutiae  and  more  delicate  indications  of 
the  whole  character.  It  was  a  very  sad  spectacle  to 


Shortly  before  Ristori  made  her  last  tour  of  America, 
Tommaso  Salvini,  who  had  enjoyed  the  advantage  of 
early  training  in  Ristori's  company,  came  over  here  for 
the  first  time.  This  was  in  1873. 

1 "  Records  of  a  Girlhood." 
289 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Salvini's  father  and  mother  were  both  players,  but 
intended  that  this  son  should  follow  the  law.  As  in  the 
case  of  so  many  other  youths  who  later  became  distin- 
guished actors,  however,  fate  and  inherited  instincts 
proved  too  strong  for  the  boy,  and  the  stage  was  the 
vocation  ultimately  chosen.  Because  of  the  rare  talent 
he  early  displayed,  Salvini  enjoyed  the  tutelage,  first,  of 
the  great  Modena;  then,  as  has  been  said,  he  became  a 
member  of  Ristori's  company.  Before  coming  to  Amer- 
ica he  was  a  star  in  his  own  right  and  had  been  accorded 
most  enthusiastic  praise  in  Spain,  Portugal,  and  all  over 
Italy. 

For  some  years  Salvini  refrained  from  attempting  the 
inevitable  tour  of  the  "  States; "  he  knew  so  well  that 
Italian  was  "  Greek "  to  most  theatre-goers  of  this 
country.  Finally,  however,  his  desire  to  make  the 
journey  became  so  keen  that  he  yielded  to  the  persua- 
sions of  an  Italian  theatrical  speculator,  with  the  result 
that  he  and  his  company  first  appeared  at  the  Academy 
of  Music,  New  York,  on  the  evening  of  September  16, 
1873,  the  play  chosen  being  "  Othello." 

Many  critics  of  unimpeachable  authority  have  pro- 
nounced Salvini's  impersonation  of  the  Moor  one  of  the 
greatest  theatrical  performances  of  our  time;  Edward 
Tuckerman  Mason  1  thought  so  highly  of  it  that  he  has 
written  a  whole  book  about  it,  a  book  in  which  every 
detail  of  the  "  stage  business  "  is  carefully  described  for 
the  benefit  of  future  generations.  George  Henry  Lewes  2 

1  "  The  OthelkTof  Tommaso  Salvini." 

2  "  Actors  and  the  Art  of  Acting." 

290 


ADELAIDE    RISTORI    AS    MARY    QUEEN    OF    SCOTS 


TOMMASO    SALVINI    AS    OTHELLO 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

declared  that  the  enthusiasm  produced  at  Drury  Lane  by 
Salvini's  "  Othello  "  was  comparable  only  to  that  in- 
spired by  Kean  and  Rachel. 

New  York  went  wild  with  enthusiasm  over  this  per- 
formance. The  critic  of  the  Tribune,  on  the  day  follow- 
ing Salvini's  debut,  devotes  nearly  a  column  and  a  half 
of  fine  print  to  commendation: 

"  It  was  a  brilliant  occasion/'  we  read,  "  and  it  was 
signalized  by  a  noble  achievement  in  dramatic  art. 
Both  were  immensely  enjoyed.  The  assemblage  that 
greeted  Salvini  —  largely  composed  of  foreigners  —  was 
sensitive,  enthusiastic,  hearty,  and  prompt  in  sponta- 
neous demonstration.  American  intellect,  culture  and 
taste  were  abundantly  represented  in  the  gallant  throng 
and  they  were  thoroughly  fired  with  the  prevalent  ar- 
dour. So  lively  a  flutter  of  preliminary  curiosity  suc- 
ceeded by  such  strained  suspense,  such  distressful  sym- 
pathy and  such  a  wild  access  of  whole-hearted  admira- 
tion it  has  seldom  been  our  lot  to  witness. 

"  There  is  never  an  uncertainty  of  significance,"  con- 
tinues this  review,  "  in  the  response  of  the  multitude 
when  its  heart  is  touched;  and  upon  this  memorable 
occasion  its  heart  was  not  touched  merely,  but  was 
shaken  as  with  a  mighty  tempest  of  passion  and  of  grief. 
No  more  intimate  correspondence  could  exist  between 
actor  and  auditor  than  that  which  was  established  be- 
tween Salvini  and  the  multitude  that  gave  him  welcome. 
It  was  that  electric  current  whereby  soul  answers  to 
soul.  It  was  that  touch  of  nature  which  makes  the 
whole  world  kin.  ...  If  ever  this  tremendous  tragedy 
of  '  Othello  '  was  offered  in  a  fitting  spirit,  it  was  offered 
last  night  in  the  Academy  of  Music.  We  do  not  allude 
to  circumstances  of  scenery  and  stage-management. 

291 


r 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

These  are  good  things,  but  they  are  not  uncommon,  and 
relatively,  they  are  not  important.  Besides,  these  at- 
tributes of  the  representation  were  not  conspicuously 
excellent.  Edwin  Booth's  learnedly  accurate,  steadily 
poetic  and  brilliantly  pictorial  setting  of  this  play  re- 
mains the  best,  and  by  far  the  best,  that  this  public  has 
ever  seen.  But  '  Othello  '  on  this  occasion  was  acted 
with  a  vast  and  desperate  earnestness  of  purpose,  and 
such  circumstances  as  are  thus  implied  may  well  be 
accounted  exceptional.  ...  An  atmosphere  of  terrible 
reality  swathed  the  entire  action  and  elevated  the  inci- 
dental pageant  .  .  .  and  Shakespeare's  vast,  lurid, 
thrilling  and  agonizing  delineation  of  the  strife  of  great 
passions  and  the  mortal  conquest  of  evil  over  love, 
goodness,  innocence  and  beauty  was  borne  home  to  the 
inmost  heart  in  the  full  stature  of  its  sublimity,  if  not 
always  in  the  full  scope  of  its  meaning." 

The  physical  advantages  and  resources  of  Salvini  for 
the  part  of  Othello  were  extraordinary.  Consequently 
his  Moor  "  had  the  Oriental  state  and  massive  grandeur. 
There  is  a  tiger  latent  in  his  blood.  ...  He  lived  out 
the  horrible  agonies  of  Othello  —  in  the  scene  of  lago's 
temptation  of  his  faith  —  as  we  could  wish  to  be  spared 
from  seeing  any  human  creature  do  again.  .  .  .  There 
can  be  no  sort  of  doubt  that  he  has  won  a  very  great 
success."  1 

One  very  cheering  thing  about  these  foreign  "  stars  " 
is  that  many  of  them  were  good  enough  to  embalm  in 
delightful  books  their  early  impressions  of  America. 
Salvini  has  told  us  in  his  "  Autobiography  "  how  very- 
much  he  liked  us,  and  why.  The  "  liberty  "  which  he 

1  Tribune  review. 
292 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

everywhere  breathed  intoxicated  him,  for  he  had  taken 
an  active  part  in  the  war  of  Italian  independence,  and 
Mazzini  and  Garibaldi  were  his  friends.  "  I  could  fancy 
in  New  York,"  he  tells  us,  "  that  I  had  come  back  to 
my  life  of  a  youth  of  twenty,  and  was  treading  the 
streets  of  republican  Rome." 

That  he  could  not  play  Shakespeare  in  English  was 
a  source  of  great  regret  to  him ;  but  he  felt  —  quite 
rightly  —  that  his  auditors  understood  him  all  the  same, 
"  or,  to  put  it  better,  caught  by  intuition  my  ideas  and 
my  sentiments." 

During  his  initial  tour  of  America,  Salvini  gave  one 
hundred  and  twenty-eight  performances  in  the  principal 
American  cities.  In  1881  he  was  over  here  again,  brought 
this  time  by  John  Stetson  of  the  Globe  Theatre,  Boston, 
who  conceived  the  novel  idea  of  presenting  an  Italian 
star  who  should  be  supported  by  an  American  com- 
pany. At  first  Salvini  was  dumbfounded  at  the  mere 
thought  of  such  a  combination,  declaring,  in  dismay, 
that  the  cues  would  go  hopelessly  wrong.  But  upon 
being  assured  by  Stetson's  representatives  that  Ameri- 
can actors  were  "  mathematicians  "  and  could  memo- 
rize perfectly  the  last  words  of  his  speeches,  he  was 
persuaded  to  undertake  the  experiment  —  and  there  is 
no  evidence  that  he  ever  regretted  the  decision.  For, 
after  a  few  rehearsals  with  his  English-speaking  col- 
leagues, he  came  to  understand  the  words  of  Shake- 
speare —  if  not  the  English  language  from  which  those 
words  were  taken. 

Another  Italian  player  of  our  own  time  whom  Ameri- 

293 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

cans  have  greatly  enjoyed  is  Eleanora  Duse,  who  was 
born  in  1859  on  the  border  of  Piedmont  and  Lombardy, 
of  a  family  which,  like  Salvini's,  was  of  good  actor  stock. 
At  the  age  of  thirteen  Duse  was  playing  with  her  par- 
ents, undergoing  hardships  which  soon  impaired  her 
health  and  stamped  her  face  for  all  time  with  that 
strangely  wearied  look  which  makes  it  at  once  so  sad 
and  so  fascinating. 

Her  first  pronounced  success  came  at  Naples,  then 
she  was  acclaimed  at  Milan,  and  in  1892  she  found  her- 
self with  an  international  reputation  by  reason  of  her 
performances  at  Vienna  and  in  the  principal  cities  of 
Europe. 

Her  American  debut  was  made  in  1893  at  the  Fifth 
Avenue  Theatre,  New  York,  in  the  role  of  Camille. 
That  year  London  saw  her  for  the  first  time.  Then  she 
was  married  to  Signor  Checchi,  but  the  union  not 
proving  a  happy  one,  she  came  again  (in  1902)  to  Amer- 
ica. Now  with  especial  aptness  could  she  be  described 
as  "  a  lean  figure,  peculiarly  attractive,  though  scarcely 
to  be  called  beautiful;  a  melancholy  face  with  a  strangely 
sweet  expression,  no  longer  young,  yet  possessed  of  a 
pale,  wistful  charm;  la  femme  de  trente  ans,  who  has 
lived  and  suffered,  and  who  knows  that  life  is  full  of 
suffering;  a  woman,  without  any  aggressive  self-con- 
fidence, yet  queenly,  gentle  and  subdued  in  manner." 

Altogether  different  from  Duse,  yet  hauntingly  rem- 
iniscent of  her,  too,  is  Alia  Nazimova,  the  Russian  who 

1  "  Six  Modern  Women:  Psychological  Sketches."  By  Laura  Mar- 
holm  Hansson. 

294 


ALL  A    NAZIMOVA 


m 


RICHARD    MANSFIELD    AS    CYRANO   DE    BERGERAC 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

has  now  become  one  of  us,  and  whose  early  "  Hedda 
Gabler "  was  as  remarkable  and  as  distinguished  a 
performance  as  was  the  "  Magda  "  of  the  Italian  ac- 
tress. The  writer  of  a  decade  hence  will  devote  a  long 
and  careful  chapter,  I  venture  to  prophesy,  to  the  act- 
ing of  this  Russian  —  who  plays  in  English. 

Modjeska,  similarly,  adopted  English  for  her  medium 
when  she  decided  to  essay  the  stage  in  America.  The 
story  of  this  player's  career  reads  like  the  pages  of  fic- 
tion, though  the  legend  that  her  father  was  a  Polish 
prince,  who  cut  her  out  of  his  will  and  affections  because 
she  chose  the  stage  as  a  profession,  has  not  even  a  grain 
of  truth  in  it.  The  fact  is  that  she  was  one  of  ten  chil- 
dren born  to  a  musician  of  Cracow,  and  there  was  great 
joy  in  the  home  circle  when  this  daughter  of  the  house 
began  to  help  support  the  family  by  becoming  an  ac- 
tress. 

When  "  Hamlet  "  first  dawned  on  Helena's  horizon, 
the  impression  made  upon  her  by  the  beauty  of  the 
poetry  and  by  the  wonderful  characterization  was 
overwhelming.  "  I  worshipped  at  once,"  she  said  later, 
"  the  great  master- work  of  that  powerful  man  born 
and  buried  somewhere  on  the  British  Islands  centuries 
ago.  He  became  my  master  then  and  there  and  remained 
so  throughout  my  theatrical  career."  The  "  Hamlet  " 
she  had  seen  was  in  German  —  and  she  dearly  loved 
the  works  in  that  tongue  of  Goethe  and  Schiller,  whom 
she  had  long  studied;  yet  when  the  opportunity  came  to 
her,  in  1863,  to  play  German  tragedy,  she  could  not 
bear  to  do  so.  For  this  was  just  at  the  time  of  the  Polish 

295 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

insurrection,  and  the  street  bands  playing  the  Polish 
national  airs  made  her  feel  as  if  her  desertion  of  the 
Polish  stage  for  the  German  at  such  a  moment  would 
be  equivalent  to  becoming  a  traitor.  The  national 
stage  was  a  passion  with  Modjeska,  and  nothing  but  her 
determination  to  play  Shakespeare  in  English  could 
ever  have  availed  to  shake  her  devotion  to  her  native 
tongue.  Even  when  Dumas  fils,  hearing  such  wonder- 
ful accounts  of  her  performances,  invited  her,  in  1867, 
to  come  to  Paris  and  play  Marguerite  Gautier  in  his 
"  Dame  aux  Camelias,"  she  refused.  Playing  in  the 
French  language  was  as  little  to  her  taste  as  was  the 
life  commonly  led  by  French  actresses. 

For,  by  instinct,  Modjeska  was  an  affectionate,  home- 
loving  woman,  one  who  prized  as  among  the  highest 
joys  of  life  the  duties  of  a  wife  and  mother.  But  she 
was  also  an  artist  to  her  finger-tips,  and  she  believed  that 
the  gift  of  tragic  interpretation  was  a  thing  she  had  no 
right  to  wrap  in  a  napkin  and  lay  aside.  Very  likely 
this  feeling  was  intensified  by  the  unhappiness  of  her 
first  marriage.  The  man  whose  unpronounceable  Po- 
lish patronymic  became  modified,  for  America,  into 
Modjeska,  was  not  the  Count  Bozenta  (Charles  Bozenta 
Chlapowski)  with  whom  Americans  associate  her;  she 
did  not  marry  this  young  Polish  patriot  until  1868,  and 
her  only  son,  Ralph,  was  by  her  earlier  husband. 

On  the  day  following  her  marriage  to  the  gallant 
young  Count  (September  12,  1868)  Modjeska  went  to 
Warsaw  in  response  to  an  invitation  to  give  a  series  of 
performances  at  the  Imperial  Theatre  there,  and  as  a 

296 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

result  of  the  triumph  then  made,  she  was  soon  engaged 
for  life  as  the  leading  lady  of  this  theatre.  For  eight 
years  she  served  —  until  her  health  broke  down.  Then 
she  and  her  husband  sailed  for  America  at  the  head  of  a 
little  body  of  Polish  patriots,  with  the  high  purpose  of 
founding  a  kind  of  Brook  Farm  in  California.  After 
visiting  the  Centennial  Exhibition  in  Philadelphia,  they 
set  about  this  task,  building  a  house  and  purchasing 
cattle,  hens,  and  chickens,  in  the  hope  that  the  climate 
and  natural  law  would  do  the  rest.  Sienkiewicz,  the 
famous  novelist,  was  one  of  their  community.  His 
attitude  towards  farming  amusingly  resembled  that  of 
Hawthorne  when  at  Brook  Farm;  and  like  Hawthorne, 
he  soon  wearied  of  "playing  chambermaid  to  a  cow." 
Thus  the  husband  and  son  of  the  gifted  actress  were 
soon  doing  all  the  rough  outdoor  work,  while  she  her- 
self was  forced  to  cook,  scrub,  and  make  butter.  Yet 
even  by  the  exercise  of  the  severest  economy  on  the 
part  of  the  colonists,  they  soon  found  they  could  not 
make  a  living  out  of  the  land,  and  Modjeska  deter- 
mined to  learn  English  and  act  at  a  San  Francisco 
theatre.  John  McCullough,  then  manager  of  the  Cali- 
fornia Theatre,  gave  her  her  first  chance. 

Here,  as  nine  years  before  in  Warsaw,  the  play  she 
chose  for  the  first  appearance  was  "  Adrienne  Lecou- 
vreur,"  and  though  she  was  then  utterly  unknown  in 
America  as  an  actress,  she  immediately  made  a  great 
success.  This  part  was  always  a  favourite  one  with  her. 
Once  when  she  acted  it  in  New  York,  she  was  so  ab- 
sorbed by  it  that  she  quite  failed  to  perceive  that  she 

297 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

was  carrying  a  shoe-horn  in  her  hand  in  place  of  a 
fan. 

The  Fifth  Avenue  Theatre,  then  managed  by  Stephen 
Fiske,  was  the  scene  of  Modjeska's  early  New  York 
triumphs.  But  "  Adrienne  "  did  not  draw  there,  owing 
to  the  fact  that  the  mass  of  theatre-goers  found  its  French 
name  a  drawback.  A  young  girl  amusingly  explained 
to  Madam  Modjeska  that  one  felt  very  stupid  telling 
people  about  seeing  a  play  if  one  could  not  be  sure  of 
pronouncing  its  name  correctly.  With  "  Camille " 
there  was  no  such  difficulty,  and  the  title-part,  as  played 
by  the  new  Polish  actress,  soon  established  her  success 
beyond  a  peradventure.  There  had  been  several  Camilles 
in  New  York  before  this  time  (1878)  and  Modjeska  her- 
self heard  a  great  deal  about  the  wonderful  performances 
of  Clara  Morris  and  Matilda  Heron.  But  her  concep- 
tion of  the  part  was  entirely  different  from  theirs,  owing 
chiefly  to  the  fact  that  she  had  just  read  Arsene  Hous- 
saye's  story  of  "  Marie  Duplessis,"  who  had  served  for 
the  model  of  Dumas's  play  and  who,  it  is  said,  was  so 
cultured  and  refined  in  appearance,  and  spoke  of  art 
with  such  good  judgment  that  Franz  Liszt,  meeting  her 
in  the  foyer  of  the  theatre,  took  her  for  a  princess. 

Modjeska  followed  up  this  suggestion  with  very  good 
effect,  representing  Camille  as  reserved,  gentle,  intense 
in  her  love  —  an  exception  in  every  way  to  her  kind. 

Probably  the  most  satisfying  artistic  experience  of 
Modjeska's  whole  life  was  her  engagement  as  co-star 
with  Edwin  Booth,  the  year  before  Booth's  death. 
Lawrence  Barrett  had  arranged  this  tour,  which  took 

298 


MODJESKA    AS    ROSALIND 


MODJESKA    AS   QUEEN    MARY 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

them  through  many  middle  western  towns  as  well  as  to 
large  cities,  and  Otis  Skinner  was  among  the  promising 
young  people  in  the  company.1  The  close  companion- 
ship with  Booth  which  Modjeska  and  her  husband  en- 
joyed during  this  tour  meant  a  great  deal  to  them  both, 
and  her  account  of  the  company's  journeyings  is  full  of 
appreciation  of  the  great  actor's  beautiful  character. 
Once,  after  a  performance  of  "  Merchant  of  Venice," 
they  were  all  talking  of  trees  and  Booth  said,  rather 
shyly:  "  I  think  the  trees  have  feelings.  I  do  not  know 
what  religion  I  have,  but  I  believe  the  trees  love  us  when 
we  treat  them  kindly.  Why  should  we  have  such  affec- 
tion for  them  if  they  do  not  reciprocate  it  in  some  unfelt 
and  unseen  way?  I  planted  once  a  grove  of  trees  on  my 
grounds.  I  sold  the  place  long  ago,  but  I  never  go  to 
New  York  or  back  without  stepping  upon  the  platform 
to  look  at  them.  They  are  as  dear  to  me  as  children." 
The  World's  Fair  at  Chicago  cost  Modjeska  her  right 
to  return  to  Poland.  For,  having  accepted  an  invitation 
to  speak  there  on  the  day  devoted  to  the  Polish  dele- 
gates, she  impulsively  gave  full  sway  to  her  patriotic 
resentment  against  the  Russian  government  and  so,  two 
years  later,  found  herself  persona  non  grata  in  Russia 
and  Russian  Poland.  But  this  did  not  matter  greatly, 
inasmuch  as  her  husband  and  son  had  both  become 
naturalized  American  citizens,  and  her  home,  when  she 
was  not  playing,  was  now  in  California.  From  that 

1  It  was  at  this  time  and  in  Indianapolis  that  Skinner  "  wore  his 
natural  legs  without  fleshings  "  while  playing  Macduff,  thus  causing  a 
critic  to  declare  that  "  a  little  less  meat  and  a  little  more  dressing  would 
have  been  not  only  more  artistic  but  more  agreeable." 

299 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

halcyon  retreat  she  was  persuaded,  in  April,  1905,  to 
come  to  New  York  for  a  testimonial  given  her  on  the 
afternoon  of  May  2,  1905,  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera 
House  before  a  brilliant  audience.  This  occasion  was 
her  farewell  to  New  York,  and  she  thought  it  would  also 
be  her  farewell  to  the  American  stage.  But,  yielding  to 
the  persuasions  of  friends,  she  indulged  in  one  more 
tour,  which  lasted  until  April,  1907. 

Two  years  later,  in  April,  1909,  she  passed  quietly 
away  at  her  home  on  Bay  Island,  East  Newport,  Cali- 
fornia, leaving  many  friends  to  mourn  her  loss  and  an 
admiring  public  to  proclaim  that,  in  her,  the  art  of 
acting  had  had  one  of  its  loftiest  exponents  in  our  day. 

Another  exquisite  actress  of  Shakespeare,  who,  if  she 
had  not  died  so  young,  would  probably  have  taken  rank 
above  every  other  woman  mentioned  in  this  book,  was 
Lilian  Adelaide  Neilson,  who  was  born  in  Kent,  Eng- 
land, in  1850,  and  made  her  first  appearance  at  Mar- 
gate in  1865  as  Julia  in  the  "  Hunchback."  Immedi- 
ately afterwards  she  appeared  at  the  Royalty  Theatre, 
London,  as  Juliet.  Leaving  London  in  1872,  she  made 
a  tour  of  the  United  States,  where  she  was  a  great  fa- 
vourite. Her  other  American  visits  were  in  1875,  1877, 
and  in  1879.  She  died  in  1880,  while  on  a  visit  to  Paris. 
In  explanation  of  her  picture  herewith  reproduced, 
Austin  Brereton  wrote  in  his  "  Dramatic  Notes: " 
"  When  Adelaide  Neilson  played  Juliet,  there  was  not 
much  fuss  made  about  the  scenery  or  the  dresses.  She 
might  have  played  it  in  a  barn,  but  whoever  saw  her 
must  remember  always  her  tear-stained  face  as  she 

300 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

stood  in  pure  white  satin  before  the  nurse  and  reproached 
her  for  her  insult  to  the  memory  of  Romeo.  That  is 
a  picture  no  years  can  destroy." 

Sarah  Bernhardt  is  of  our  own  time  and  is  still  acting. 
Yet,  a  book  of  this  sort  would  be  incomplete  without 
referring  to  this  world-artist,  and  giving  a  slight  sketch 
of  her  fascinating  and  many-sided  personality.  Sarcey 
pictures  for  us  the  manner  of  her  admission  to  the  Paris 
Conservatoire.  There  was  an  examination  to  be  passed 
and  all  that  this  little  girl  knew  was  the  fable  of  the 
"  Two  Pigeons;  "  but  she  had  no  sooner  recited  the 
lines  — 

"  Deux  pigeons  s'aimaient  d 'amour  tendre 
L'un  d'eux,  s'ennuyant  au  logis  —  " 

than  Auber  summoned  her  to  his  side. 

"  Enough/'  he  said.  "  Come  here."  And  the  little  girl, 
who  was  pale  and  thin,  but  who  had  wonderfully  intel- 
ligent eyes,  did  as  she  was  told. 

"  Your  name  is  Sarah?  "  he  questioned. 

"  Yes,  sir." 
'  You  are  a  Jewess?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  by  birth;  but  I  have  been  baptized." 

"  She  has  been  baptized,"  said  Auber,  turning  to  his 
colleagues.  "  It  would  have  been  a  pity  if  such  a  pretty 
child  had  not.  She  has  said  her  fable  of  the  '  Two 
Pigeons  '  very  well.  She  must  be  admitted." 

And  admitted  she  thereupon  was,  —  this  convent- 
bred  Jewess  of  thirteen  years.  Almost  at  once  she  began 
to  show  the  genius  that  was  in  her  and,  by  the  time  she 

301 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

was  twenty-five,  was  drawing  a  salary  of  six  thousand 
francs  at  the  Comedie  Francais.  Her  talent  was  so 
undeniable  and  her  success  so  immediate  that  there 
seems  to  have  been  absolutely  no  reason  why  she  should 
have  strained  constantly  after  personal  notoriety  - 
as  she  is  generally  believed  to  have  done.  Her  own  ver- 
sion of  the  matter,  however,  is  that  the  reporters  would 
never  let  her  alone.  There  may  have  been  consider- 
able truth  in  this;  apparently,  it  was  an  uncompli- 
mentary newspaper  criticism  which  caused  her  to  send 
in  her  resignation  to  the  Comedie  and  set  off,  in  1879, 
for  the  conquest  of  London. 

From  London  she  embarked  for  her  first  visit  to 
America  and  was  led  into  New  York  —  and  thence  all 
over  the  "  States  "  -  by  the  gentle  hand  of  Manager 
Jarrett,  who  saw  to  it  that  Sarah  of  the  golden  voice 
obtained  everything  that  she  wanted  in  the  way  of  pub- 
licity. Her  account  of  the  tactful  manner  in  which  Jar- 
rett met  the  banal  inquiries  of  the  first  relay  of  report- 
ers is  amusing.  She  had  just  replied  to  the  stock  inquiry, 
"  Which  is  your  favourite  role?  "  with  "  That  is  no 
concern  of  yours!  "  and  was  about  to  answer  in  similar 
vein  the  question,  "What  do  you  eat  as  soon  as  you  wake 
in  the  morning?  "  when  Jarrett  interposed  and  suavely 
assured  the  reporter  that  the  first  food  consumed  daily 
by  his  precious  French  star  was  oatmeal,  and  that  later 
on  she  always  indulged  herself  in  mussels! J 

None  the  less,  the  newspapers  generally  were  very 
kind  to  Mme.  Bernhardt  during   this   initial   visit   to 
1  "  Memories  of  My  Life,"  Sarah  Bernhardt. 
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The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

America.  The  New  York  Tribune,  on  the  morning 
after  her  debut,1  devoted  two  columns  to  a  considera- 
tion of  the  event,  its  critic  characterizing  the  distin- 
guished French  actress  as  "  one  of  Nature's  voices 
divinely  ordained  to  interpret  beauty." 

"  Madame  Bernhardt,"  continues  this  reviewer,  "  is 
clearly  a  woman  of  genius,  but  we  should  not  from  this 
performance  infer  that  it  is  a  genius  of  the  highest  order. 
There  was  no  hint  of  the  great  dominant  brain  of  such 
a  woman  as  Cushman  or  the  awful  power  of  imagina- 
tive exaltation  that  was  the  unrivalled  excellence  of 
Rachel.  .  .  .  Her  power  is,  beyond  all  doubt,  the  mag- 
netic force  and  fascination  of  a  nature  genially  fired  by 
emotion,  and  a  nervous  system  sensitive  to  every  pass- 
ing wave  of  excitement,  —  but  it  is  the  genius  of  a 
woman  who  is  strange  rather  than  great,  bizarre  rather 
than  glorious,  portentous  rather  than  overwhelming; 
and  her  art  is  the  flute  and  not  the  organ.  ...  To 
greet  her  last  night  there  had  come  together  one  of  the 
most  splendid  audiences  ever  gathered  within  the  walls 
of  a  theatre.  She  has  made  a  very  brilliant  beginning  in 
America.  She  may  not  be  a  great  woman;  we  do  not 
think  she  is  ...  but  she  is  a  wonderful  person;  she 
exerts  a  strange  and  thrilling  power,  she  is  accomplished 
in  theatrical  finesse;  and  within  a  certain  field,  which 
seems  to  be  limited  to  sentimental  realism,  she  is  a  great 
actress." 

There  is  no  question  that  the  crowd  enormously  en- 
joyed Bernhardt,  not  only  the  crowd  within  the  play- 
house, but  the  crowd  outside.  All  the  approaches  to 

1  Earnhardt's  first  appearance  in  America  was  at  Booth's  Theatre, 
November  9,  1880,  the  play  given  being  "  Adrienne  Lecouvreur." 

303 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Booth's  theatre  were  blocked  with  people  hours  before 
the  performance  began  that  first  night,  as  high  as 
twenty-five  dollars  being  paid  for  a  single  seat;  at  the 
box-office  alone  more  than  seven  thousand  dollars  were 
taken  in.  After  the  performance  the  immense  throng 
adjourned  to  the  street  outside  the  Albermarle  Hotel, 
where  Gilmore's  Band  serenaded  the  actress  in  "  Mar- 
seillaise "  and  "  Star  Spangled  Banner."  These  atten- 
tions the  wonderful  Frenchwoman  appeared  to  enjoy 
quite  as  much  as  she  had  enjoyed  the  bouquets  rained 
on  the  stage  at  the  close  of  her  performance. 

She  appears  to  have  similarly  enjoyed  being  the 
centre  of  the  admiring  throng  that  flocked  to  enjoy  a 
private  view  of  her  paintings  and  sculptures  one  after- 
noon during  this  engagement.  On  this  occasion  she  was 
described  as: 

"  Dressed  in  white,  with  a  cloud  of  lace  hiding  in  its 
soft  folds  the  materials  of  her  dress,  and  with  long  loose 
gloves  coming  up  to  her  shoulders  and  meeting  the 
short  sleeves  that  she  wore  like,  and  yet  unlike,  the  pic- 
tures of  her  that  we  see  in  the  shops.  She  is  not  more 
than  common  tall  nor  is  she  absurdly  thin.  She  looks 
much  more  like  an  American  woman  and  a  New  Yorker 
than  a  Frenchwoman,  and  not  in  the  least  like  a  Jew. 
Her  hair,  worn  in  a  frizzle  over  her  low  forehead,  is 
colourless  and  characterless,  and  her  face  takes  on  the 
set  expression  of  indiscriminate  cordiality  of  greeting, 
only  to  lose  it  every  other  minute  and  assume  a  sadly 
wearied  look.  But  her  vivacity  is  wonderful  and  so, 
also,  is  her  self-possession.  Every  one  who  was  intro- 
duced to  her  went  away  with  the  dazed  conviction  he 
or  she  was  the  especial  object  of  the  lady's  cordiality." 

304 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

All  of  which  convince  me  that  at  receptions,  as  on 
the  stage,  Bernhardt  played  a  part  and  played  it  well. 
I  could  not  have  described  more  accurately  than  do  the 
sentences  just  quoted  the  way  this  lady  looked  to  me 
and  comported  herself,  some  twenty  years  later,  when  I 
first  met  her  at  a  reception  given  for  her  in  Boston. 

Henry  Irving  and  Ellen  Terry  are  so  nearly  of  our 
own  time  that  all  lovers  of  the  theatre  remember  them 
well;  and  most  of  my  readers  could  probably  tell  me 
quite  as  well  as  I  can  tell  them,  that  Irving  made  no  less 
than  eight  professional  tours  of  America,1  at  first  ac- 
companied by  Miss  Terry  and  at  last  alone.  In  1907, 
Miss  Terry  came  by  herself  for  the  first  time,  —  acting 
in  modern  plays,  —  and  she  has  since  been  over  here 
on  a  lecture  tour.  Irving  died  October  13,  1905,  almost 
immediately  after  the  last  curtain  had  fallen  on  his 
impersonation  of  Becket.  Miss  Terry  is  still  with  us  in 
the  flesh,  as  charming  and  as  radiantly  young  as  ever  — 
though  she  is  now  sixty-five. 

Henry  Irving  was  born  at  Keinton,  a  village  near 
Glastonbury,  Somersetshire,  England,  on  February  6, 
1838.  His  family  name  was  Brodbribb,  and  in  christen- 
ing he  received  the  names  of  John  and  Henry.  When  he 
went  on  the  stage,  in  1856,  he  assumed  the  name  of 
Irving;  but  it  was  not  until  he  had  used  it  for  several 
years,  and  made  it  eminent,  that  he  obtained  from  Par- 
liament"the  legal  right  so  to  call  himself.  On  July  19, 
1895,  he  received  the  honour  of  knighthood  from  Queen 
Victoria,  an  honour  well  deserved  by  reason  of  his  il- 

1  In  1883,  1884,  1887,  1893,  1895,  J899,  1901,  and  1903. 
305 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

lustrious  services  to  the  stage  as  well  as  because,  in 
private  life,  he  was  possessed  of  the  knightly  virtues. 
His  ashes  appropriately  rest  near  those  of  Garrick,  in 
the  Poets'  Corner  of  Westminster  Abbey.  For,  like 
Garrick,  he  was  a  great  theatrical  manager;  like  Gar- 
rick,  too,  he  was  a  man  of  brilliant  mind  and  tremendous 
energy,  and  if  his  achievements  as  an  actor  are  not  to 
be  classed  with  Garrick's,  this  was  not  for  any  lack  of 
idealism  in  him  or  because  he  did  not  work  hard  at  his 
chosen  calling. 

Critics  generally  are  agreed  that,  for  a  man  who  could 
"  neither  walk  nor  talk,"  Irving  made  a  simply  amazing 
success  as  an  actor.  This  was  very  largely  due  to  his* 
tall,  impressive  figure  and  to  his  face  —  far  and  away 
the  most  fascinating  face  which  has  ever  been  seen  on 
our  stage.  Thejiigh  forehead,  set  off  by  strongly  marked 
and  exceedingly  flexible  eyebrows,  the  large,  positive 
nose,  the  narrow,  sensitive  lips,  the  strong,  thin  jaw, 
the  glowing  and  cavernous  eyes  —  and,  to  crown  all,  the 
long  and  somewhat  wavy,  iron  grey  hair  —  combined 
to  make  a  head  which,  even  if  empty,  would  have  meant 
a  fortune  for  an  actor.  Irving's  head  was  by  no  means 
empty.  The  man  was  a  most  devout  student  of  stage 
history,  with  a  deep  and  highly  intellectual  interest  in 
everything  that  bore  even  remotely  upon  his  work. 
Hence  his  success,  in  spite  of  obvious  disadvantages. 
Henry  Irving  was  a  man  of  one  passion  and  that  for  his 
calling.  No  task  was  too  arduous,  no  drill  too  exhaust- 
ing, no  expenditure,  either  of  money  or  energy,  too 
great,  if  so  there  might  be  attained  better  results  for 

306 


SIR    HENRY    IRVING 


ELLEN    TERRY    AS    PORTIA 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  piece  in  hand.  Such  absolute  sincerity  and  single- 
mindedness  must  spell  success  in  any  career. 

If  you  would  understand  and  appreciate  Henry 
Irving,  read  Ellen  Terry.1  I  know  of  no  other  in- 
stance in  literature  where  a  woman,  who  has  set 
out  to  write  her  own  life,  gives  us  instead  a  su- 
premely illuminating  picture  of  the  work  and  aims  of 
a  professional  partner,  and  that  partner  a  man.  Miss 
Terry  frankly  concedes  that  Irving  was  an  egotist  and 
that  all  his  faults  sprang  from  this  fact.  But,  she  in- 
sists, he  was  an  egotist  of  a  great  type,  never  a  mean 
egotist.  "  So  much  absorbed  was  he  in  his  own  achieve- 
ments that  he  was  unable  or  unwilling  to  appreciate 
the  achievements  of  others.  It  would  be  easy  to  attrib- 
ute this  to  jealousy  but  the  easy  explanation  is  not  the 
true  one.  He  simply  would  not  give  himself  up  to  ap- 
preciation. .  .  .  Perhaps  it  is  not  true,  but,  as  I  believe 
it  to  be  true,  I  may  as  well  state  it:  It  was  never  any 
pleasure  to  him  to  see  the  acting  of  other  actors  and  ac- 
tresses. All  the  same,  Salvini's  Othello  I  know  he  thought 
magnificent,  but  he  would  not  speak  of  it." 

Their  first  American  tour  came  in  1883,  after  the 
co-stars  had  achieved  marked  success  in  the  Lyceum 
productions  of  Shakespeare.2  The  Star  Theatre,  New 

1 "  The  Story  of  My  Life;  "  Ellen  Terry.    S.  S.  McClure  Co. 

2  Charles  Reade,  who  was  early  one  of  Ellen  Terry's  warm  admirers  and 
devoted  friends,  has  left  us  in  his  "  Journal  "  a  very  striking  description  of 
her  personal  appearance  at  this  stage  of  her  career:  "  Her  eyes  are  pale, 
her  nose  rather  long,  her  mouth  nothing  particular.  Complexion  a  deli- 
cate brick-dust,  hair  rather  like  tow.  Yet  somehow  she  is  beautiful.  Her 
expression  kills  any  pretty  face  you  see  beside  her.  Her  figure  is  lean  and 
bony,  her  hand  masculine  in  size  and  form.  Yet  she  is  a  pattern  of  fawn- 
like  grace.  Whether  in  movement  or  repose,  grace  pervades  the  hussy." 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

York,  was  the  place,  and  "  The  Bells  "  the  play  in  which 
the  company  opened.1  Miss  Terry  was  in  the  audience 
this  first  night,  there  being  no  good  part  for  her  in  "  The 
Bells."  From  her  box  she  observed  that  the  Americans 
"  wanted  to  like  them  "  —  and  studied  with  great  inter- 
est the  men  and  women  who  crowded  the  theatre  to  its 
doors.  The  way  the  women  dressed  did  not  commend 
itself  to  her,  the  combination  of  Indian  shawls  and  dia- 
mond earrings  not  being  at  all  to  her  taste.  On  her  own 
first  night  she  played  Henrietta  Maria  to  Irving's 
Charles  I.  "  Twelfth  Night  "  was,  however,  the  great 
success  of  this  first  American  tour,  Irving's  Malvolio 
offering  the  most  adequate  presentation  of  the  charac- 
ter that  America  had  ever  seen. 

Miss  Terry  had  made  her  first  great  success  as  Olivia 
in  a  play  fashioned  by  W.  G.  Wills  from  Goldsmith's 
"  Vicar  of  Wakefield."  An  opportunity  to  play  a  simi- 
larly congenial  part  now  came  to  her  when  Irving  put 
on  "  Faust  "  and  cast  her  for  Margaret.  Preparations 
for  this  production  included  a  delightful  tour  of  Ger- 
many, Irving,  in  his  prodigal  fashion,  acting  as  host  to 
a  considerable  number  of  people  connected  with  the 
theatre,  including  Miss  Terry  and  her  daughter,  "  Edy  " 
Craig.  At  Nuremberg  he  bought  nearly  all  the  proper- 
ties used  later  in  the  play  and  stored  his  mind  full  of 
valuable  impressions.  "  Faust  "  proved  the  greatest 
financial  success  of  any  of  the  Lyceum  productions,  for 
Mephistopheles  provided  Irving  with  a  part  exactly 
suited  to  his  peculiar  abilities,  and  Miss  Terry  as  Mar- 
October  29,  1883. 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

garet  was  enchanting.  She  took  domestic  pride  in  the 
fact  that  she  used  a  real  spinning-wheel  on  the  stage, 
and  was  able  to  make  progress  with  her  work  right 
under  the  eyes  of  the  audience. 

When  Irving  put  on  "  Macbeth,"  Sargent  was  so 
impressed  with  Ellen  Terry's  Queen  that  he  begged 
permission  to  paint  her.  The  resulting  picture  long  hung 
in  the  Beefsteak  Room  at  the  Lyceum  Theatre,  but  is 
now  preserved  in  the  Tate  Gallery,  London.  Burne- 
Jones  was  another  artist  who  was  greatly  impressed 
by  the  beauty  of  Ellen  Terry  in  this  part,  declaring  that 
she  looked  like  a  great  Scandinavian  queen,  and  that 
her  presence,  her  voice  and  her  movement  made  "  a 
marvellously  poetic  harmony." 

When  Irving  began  to  do  "  Dante  "  and  "  Becket," 
his  long  alliance  with  this  gifted  woman  came  naturally 
to  an  end,  because  there  was  no  proper  part  for  her  in 
either  of  these  plays.  She  then  proceeded  to  act  modern 
drama,  both  in  this  country  and  in  England.  But  this 
is  recent,  almost  current  history.  During  Miss  Terry's 
1907  tour  of  America,  she  married  James  Carew;  she 
and  this  husband  1  are  still  living  happily  together  at 
Wittershan,  England. 

1  Miss  Terry  was  married  when  a  mere  child  to  Watts,  the  painter. 


309 


CHAPTER  XIII 


EDWIN  BOOTH  was  born  at  his  father's  farm  in  Be- 
lair,  Maryland,  on  the  night  of  November  13,  1833,  a 
night  fittingly  marked  by  a  series  of  meteoric  showers. 
He  was  named  Edwin  after  Forrest,  who  had  been  his 
father's  friend  but  was  never  his;  without  intending  to 
do  so,  young  Booth  superseded  the  elder  tragedian  in 
the  public  esteem. 

The  relationship  of  these  two  Edwins  to  the  American 
theatre,  William  Winter  has  stated  in  a  few  pregnant 
sentences.  When  the  nineteenth  century  dawned,  he 
shows  us,  Hodgkinson  and  Cooper  were  the  principal 
tragic  figures  on  the  American  stage;  but  by  the  middle 
of  the  century,  Forrest  was  the  reigning  theatrical 
monarch.  It  was  under  Forrest  that  America,  theatri- 
cally, attained  for  the  first  time  a  character  of  its  own; 
then  came  Charlotte  Cushman  and  E.  L.  Davenport  to 
emphasize  the  fact  that  we  were  no  longer  a  province 
of  England. 

Ctyet  the  art  of  acting  was  not  spiritual  and  intellec- 
tual —  as  well  as  American  —  until  Edwin  Booth  rose 
to  eminence.  He  it  was  who  gave  to  dramatic  expres- 
sion in  this  country  sensitiveness,  taste,  and  feeling. 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Americans  who  regard  the  theatre  as  a  force  for  great 
good  in  our  life  as  a  people  cannot  render  too  much 
honour,  therefore,  to  Edwin  Booth.  For,  as  Augustin 
Daly  said  in  his  final  tribute:  "Booth  was,  certainly, 
the  greatest  tragic  actor  of  his  time,  and  beyond  dispute, 
the  noblest  figure,  as  man  and  actor,  our  stage  has 
known  this  century." 

The  most  impressionable  years  of  the  lad  Edwin's 
life  were  passed  in  the  purlieus  of  the  stage,  where  it 
was  his  singular  office  to  act  as  mentor,  dresser,  com- 
panion, and  guide  to  his  highly  gifted  but  exceedingly 
erratic  father.  This  father  seems  never  to  have  con- 
cerned himself  much  about  his  son's  education,  but  he 
was  steadily  opposed  to  having  Edwin  on  the  stage,  and 
when  the  decisive  first  step  was  taken,  in  a  half-acci- 
dental manner,  he  gave  it  only  negative  countenance. 

Young  Booth  played  his  first  part  at  the  Boston 
Museum  on  September  10,  1849,  assuming  the  role  of 
Tressel  in  "  Richard  III,"  for  the  sake  of  relieving  an 
overworked  prompter,  to  whom  this  character  had  been 
assigned.  The  elder  Booth,  hearing  what  was  to  happen, 
called  his  son  before  him  and  interrogated  him  as  fol- 
lows: 

"  Who  was  Tressel?  " 

"  A  messenger  from  the  field  of  Tewksbury." 

"  What  was  his  mission?  " 

"  To  bear  the  news  of  the  defeat  of  the  king's  party." 

"  How  did  he  make  the  journey?  " 

"  On  horseback." 

"  Where  are  your  spurs?  " 

311 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Edwin  glanced  quickly  down  and  said  he  had  not 
thought  of  them. 

"  Here,  take  mine." 

The  youth  did  as  he  was  told  and  went  out  to  perform 
his  part.  When  he  returned  to  the  dressing-room,  he 
found  his  father  still  there,  with  his  feet  upon  the  table, 
apparently  engrossed  in  thought. 

"  Have  you  done  well?  "  asked  the  elder  Booth. 

"  I  think  so,"  replied  Edwin. 

"  Give  me  my  spurs,"  directed  the  parent  laconically.1 

The  news  that  young  Edwin  Booth  had  made  a  suc- 
cess on  the  stage  soon  spread,  and  a  number  of  managers 
requested  that  father  and  son  should  appear  together. 
But  to  this  suggestion  the  elder  Booth  would  not  listen; 
once,  in  refusing  such  an  offer,  he  volunteered  that  Ed- 
win was  a  good  banjo  player  and  could  be  announced 
for  a  solo  between  the  acts,  if  so  desired.  Apparently  he 
saw  nothing  humourous  in  this  concession.  None  the 
less,  the  youth  soon  got  his  chance.  The  place  this  time 
was  New  York,  Richard  III  was  again  the  play,  and 
on  this  occasion,  also,  he  got  a  part  by  accident.  His 
father  was  billed  at  the  National  as  the  crooked-backed 
tyrant,  but,  when  the  hour  arrived  to  set  out  for  the 
theatre,  sullenly  declared  that  he  would  not  stir  from 
his  lodgings.  Edwin's  entreaties  were  utterly  without 
effect.  "  Go  act  it  yourself,"  said  the  impracticable 
parent,  with  the  utmost  calmness.  At  the  theatre  the 
much-tried  youth  explained  that  his  father  could  not 
be  persuaded  to  play  that  night  and,  in  desperation, 

Asia  Booth  Clarke:  "  The  Elder  and  The  Younger  Booth." 
312 


FTTPV    TT,  Copyright  by  Window  &  Grove 

ELLEN   TERRY    AS    MARGUERITE 


SIR   JOHNSTON   FORBES-ROBERTSON   AS   HAMLET 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

gave  the  message  with  which  he  had  been  charged. 
Eagerly  the  distracted  manager  seized  upon  the  sub- 
stitute, hurried  him  into  the  garments  of  the  part,  and 
without  making  any  explanation  to  the  audience,  sent 
him  on  in  his  father's  place.  Naturally,  the  crowd 
which  had  turned  out  to  see  a  famous  tragedian  in  his 
most  characteristic  role  were  disappointed  at  the  sub- 
stitution of  a  stripling  and  showed  it,  but  soon  perceiv- 
ing who  was  playing  in  old  Booth's  place,  they  became 
considerate  and  appreciative  —  and  at  the  end  of  the 
play  Edwin  was  called  out  amid  hearty  applause. 
Whether  the  elder  Booth,  who  had  meanwhile  taken  a 
place  in  the  auditorium  to  witness  the  outcome  of  the 
experiment  to  which  he  had  capriciously  subjected  his 
son,  was  more  pleased  or  pained  at  this  result,  does  not 
appear. 

In  California,  where  young  Booth  soon  found  himself 
and  where  the  news  of  his  father's  sudden  death  was 
brought  to  him  in  1852,  all  the  vicissitudes  of  a  pioneer 
actor  in  a  new  country  were  cheerfully  undergone.  Once 
the  company  came  very  near  starving,  and  many  of 
them  had  to  trudge  back  to  the  nearest  town  through 
the  deep  snow.  On  another  occasion  Booth  was  obliged 
to  travel  from  place  to  place  on  horseback,  followed  by 
wagons  containing  the  stage  properties  and  the  other 
members  of  the  company. 

Junius  Booth,  Edwin's  brother,  was  acting  as  stage 
manager  of  this  little  group  of  Thespians,  and  he  had 
the  enterprise  to  take  a  San  Francisco  hall  and  announce 
Edwin  in  a  series  of  the  great  characters  of  the  English 

3*3 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

drama.  Most  of  these  characters  were  familiar  to  the 
young  actor  from  reading  and  from  watching  his  father 
act;  the  kindness  of  the  press  in  reviewing  him  in  these 
roles  encouraged  him  to  undertake  a  few  parts  which  he 
had  not  seen  so  often  and  so  did  not  know  so  well.  One 
of  these  characters  was  Hamlet,  not  at  all  the  Hamlet 
of  his  maturity,  but  still  an  interesting  and  a  praise- 
worthy performance. 

Then  intervened  an  adventurous  trip  to  the  islands 
of  the  Pacific  and  to  Australia,  where  he  was  supported 
by  Laura  Keene.  Returning  to  San  Francisco  he  was 
offered  an  engagement  at  the  Metropolitan  Theatre, 
recently  opened  there  by  Mrs.  Catherine  Sinclair,  with 
James  E.  Murdoch  as  first  star.  Later,  Booth  and  this 
lady  formed  a  partnership  to  travel;  for  this  he  was 
never  forgiven  by  Forrest. 

Booth  now  turned  eastward,  playing  first  at  the  Front 
Street  Theatre,  Baltimore,  and  then  setting  out  for  a 
tour  of  the  South.  Washington,  Richmond,  Charles- 
ton, New  Orleans,  Mobile,  and  Memphis  were  among  the 
capitals  which  received  him  cordially;  and  in  Boston, 
where  in  April,  1857,  he  first  played  Sir  Giles  Overreach 
at  the  Howard  Athenaeum,  he  demonstrated  conclu- 
sively that  he  was  to  be  a  great  actor  —  even  as  his 
father  had  been  before  him.  Of  course  a  New  York 
success  was  now  a  foregone  conclusion. 

Lawrence  Barrett  was  in  the  company  when,  on  May 
4,  1857,  Booth,  now  announced  as  Duke  of  Gloster,  made 
his  bow  at  the  Metropolitan  Theatre.  He  describes  the 
star  of  this  occasion  as  "  a  slight,  pale  youth,  with  black, 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

flowing  hair,  soft  brown  eyes  full  of  tenderness  and 
gentle  timidity,  and  a  manner  mixed  with  shyness  and 
quiet  repose."  It  had  been  very  distressing  to  Booth 
to  find  that  he  had  been  heralded  in  the  papers  and  on 
the  New  York  billboards  as  the  "  Hope  of  the  Living1 
Drama;  "  yet  it  was  precisely  this,  in  very  truth,  that 
he  proved  himself  to  be.  For  Forrest  was  just  beginning 
to  lose  his  grasp  upon  the  sceptre  which  he  had  wielded 
so  long,  the  elder  Wallack  was  now  playing  his  farewell 
engagements,  and  Davenport  was  spending  his  fine 
energies  in  parts  not  of  the  first  rank.  Thus  there  was 
a  place  ready  and  waiting  for  a  man  of  strong  and  original 
power.  Booth  was  recognized  as  that  man.j 

Having  now  definitely  "  arrived,"  Booth  could  afford 
the  luxury  of  a  wife  and  the  happiness  of  a  home.  On 
July  7,  1860,  at  the  New  York  home  of  Rev.  Samuel 
Osgood,  D.  D.,  he  was  married  to  Miss  Mary  Devlin, 
daughter  of  a  Troy  merchant.  Mary  Devlin  was  an 
exquisite  creature  who,  though  trained  for  the  profes- 
sion of  music,  had  attained  considerable  success  as  an 
actress;  she  it  was  who  played  Juliet  in  New  York  to 
the  Romeo  of  Charlotte  Cushman  on  June  22,  1858. 
Shortly  after  her  marriage  to  Booth,  the  two  sailed 
for  England,  and  she  never  again  appeared  on  the 
stage.  / 

The  Booths  remained  in  England  until  September, 
1862,  and  at  Fulham;  London,  their  only  daughter, 
Edwina  (Mrs.  Ignatius  Grossman),  was  born.  The 
object  of  Booth's  English  visit  was  to  play  his  leading 
characters  in  London  and  the  Provinces,  and  this  he  did 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

with  considerable  success;  but  owing  to  the  outbreak 
of  the  Civil  War,  a  lively  dislike  of  "  Yankees  "  was 
then  prevalent  in  England,  and  this  tended  to  hasten 
the  actor's  return  to  America.  Moreover,  Mrs.  Booth's 
health  was  no  longer  good.  Scarcely  had  her  husband 
established  her  in  their  home  at  Dorchester,  Massachu- 
setts, and  set  out  to  fulfil  his  engagement  at  the  Winter 
Garden  Theatre,  New  York,  when  the  gentle  Mary  he 
so  deeply  loved  left  him  forever.  The  shock  and  sorrow 
of  this  sweet  woman's  death  was  a  terrible  experience 
for  Booth;  yet  this  very  blow  cured  him  for  all  time  of 
the  intermittent  craze  for  drink  which  he  had  inherited 
from  his  erratic  father.  From  the  day  his  Mary  died 
he  was  a  changed  man.  Tobacco,  however,  he  con- 
tinued to  use  to  excess,  thus  impairing  his  health. 

With  what  nobleness  of  spirit  Booth  bore  the  great 
affliction  which  had  come  to  him  may  be  seen  in  a  letter 
which  he  sent  at  this  time  to  the  Dr.  Osgood  who  had 
married  him,  and  which  I  am  here  permitted  to  print 
through  the  kindness  of  Mrs.  Mabel  Osgood  Wright, 
daughter  of  that  esteemed  and  lamented  clergyman: 

"  Dorchester,  March  7,  1863. 

"  REV.  SAMUEL  OSGOOD  :  - 

"  My  dear  Sir,  —  In  acknowledgment  of  your  kind 
letter  of  condolence  and  advice  I  can  only  offer  you  my 
poor  thanks. 

"  I  was  not  aware,  until  it  was  too  late,  that  you  were 
in  Boston,  or  I  should  have  begged  of  you,  who  blessed 
us  in  the  wedding  of  our  hopes,  a  prayer  on  that  sad  day 
when  they  all  withered:  need  I  tell  you  how  sincerely 
I  regretted  your  absence? 

316 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  Two  little  years  have,  indeed,  taught  me  much.  I 
have  touched  in  that  brief  space  the  extremes  of  earthly 
joy  and  grief,  a  joy  scarce  understood  till  it  was  snatched 
from  me;  a  grief  far  beyond  my  poor  conception  until 
He  laid  his  rod  upon  me.  A  reality  —  sterner  than  ever 
I  imagined  —  has  torn  from  my  eyes  the  rosy  veil 
through  which  I  looked  upon  the  world. 

"  You  have  been  pleased  to  mention  my  art  and  to 
express  the  hope  that  I  may  be  spared  to  serve  it  long 
and  faithfully;  if  it  be  His  will  I  bow  before  it  meekly, 
as  I  now  bear  the  terrible  affliction  He  has  seen  fit  to 
lay  upon  me,  but  I  cannot  repress  an  inward  hope  that 
I  may  soon  rejoin  her  who,  next  to  God,  was  the  object 
of  my  devotion. 

"  When  I  was  happy  my  art  was  a  source  of  infinite 
delight  and  pride  to  me,  because  she  delighted  in  my 
success  and  encouraged  me  in  all  I  did;  I  had  then  an 
incentive  to  work,  to  achieve  something  great.  But  my 
ambition  is  gone  with  her;  it  can  give  me  no  pleasure  to 
paint  a  picture  of  my  grief  and  hold  it  up  as  a  show  for 
applause  again. 

"  My  agony  will  be  too  intense  to  render  properly 
those  passions  of  woe,  and  sufferings  which  till  now  I 
thought  required  years  of  study  and  practise,  but  which, 
alas !  I  have  too  quickly  —  too  deeply,  learned. 

"  Her  applause  was  all  I  valued  —  gaining  it  I  felt 
there  was  something  noble  in  my  calling;  her  criticism 
was  the  most  severe  and  just  —  feeling  this  I  felt  also 
there  was  something  higher  to  be  attained,  but  now  I 
can  only  regard  my  profession  as  the  means  of  providing 
for  the  poor  little  babe  she  has  left  with  me;  the  beauty 
of  my  art  is  gone  —  it  is  hateful  to  me  —  it  has  become 
a  trade. 

"  Pardon  me  for  thus  trespassing  upon  your  patience, 
and  think  only  of  the  grateful  feelings  your  sympathy 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

has  awakened  in  my  heart,  and  of  the  firmness  of  my 
resolve  to  live  for  the  dear  innocent  whose  goodness 
shall  be  my  guide  to  her  so  deeply  loved  and  mourned. 
"  With  sincerest  wishes  for  your  health  and  happi- 
ness, believe  me, 

"  Your  servant, 

"  EDWIN  BOOTH." 

Booth  gave  up  his  Dorchester  residence,  took  a  house 
in  New  York,  and  contemplated  retirement  from  public 
life;  but  his  sorrow  soon  drove  him  to  desire  his  art 
even  more  than  he  had  desired  it  before,  and  he  embarked 
on  two  theatrical  enterprises  of  magnitude  and  im- 
portance. One  of  these  was  the  purchase,  with  John 
S.  Clarke,  who  had  married  his  sister,  Asia,  of  the  Wal- 
nut Street  Theatre  in  Philadelphia;  the  other  was  the 
leasing  of  the  theatre  on  Broadway,  opposite  the  end 
of  Bond  Street,  whose  name  had  recently  been  changed 
by  Dion  Boucicault  from  the  Metropolitan  to  the 
Winter  Garden.  Booth's  connection  with  this  house 
covered  the  period  from  September,  1862,  to  March, 
1867;  his  association  with  the  Walnut  Street  Theatre 
was  from  the  summer  of  1863  till  March,  1870,  when  he 
sojd  out  his  interest  to  Clarke. 

./In  November,  1864,  occurred  at  the  Winter  Garden 

^^the  most  notable  production  of  "Hamlet"  this  coun- 

^         try  had  ever  seen.     Scenically,  this  "  Hamlet  "  was  a 

triumph  of  poetic  art;    and  the  acting  of  the  leading 

role  was  such  as  to  make  Edwin  Booth  the  Hamlet  par 

excellence  of   the  American   stage.     For  one  hundred 

nights  he  held  the  stage  in  this  part.    Then  the  play 

318 


EDWIN    BOOTH    AS    HAMLET 


JOHN    WILKES    BOOTH 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

was  transferred  to  the  Boston  Theatre,  where  it  drew 
large  audiences  and  elicited  the  greatest  possible  enthu- 
siasm. 

During  this  visit  to  Boston  there  fell  upon  Booth  the 
terrible  sorrow  and  disgrace  of  his  brother's  mad  act 
at  Washington.  On  the  fatal  evening  of  April  14,  1865, 
our  actor,  having  performed  his  roles  in  "  The  Iron 
Chest "  and  "  Don  Caesar  de  Bazan,"  retired  for  the 
night  at  the  home  of  his  friend,  Dr.  Orlando  Tompkins, 
in  Franklin  Square,  where  he  was  visiting.  "  On  the 
following  morning/'  writes  the  son  of  his  host,1  an  old 
family  servant,  his  coloured  valet,  greeted  him  with: 
'  Have  you  heard  the  news,  Massa  Edwin?  President 
Lincoln  done  been  shot  and  killed.'  '  Great  God,'  said 
the  horrified  tragedian,  '  who  did  that?  '  l  Well,'  replied 
the  negro,  '  they  done  say  Massa  John  did  it.' '  Of 
course  it  was  out  of  the  question  for  Booth  to  play 
in  Boston  or  anywhere  else  in  America  for  some  time 
after  that.  Several  months  passed  before  he  was 
again  seen  on  the  stage;  then  he  became  identified 
for  all  time  in  the  public  mind  with  that  Prince  of 
Denmark  who,  like  himself,  had  drunk  the  bitter  water 
of  affliction. 

That  Booth  deeply  admired  Lincoln,  —  for  whom,  his 
sister  tells  us,  he  cast  the  first  and  only  vote  of  his  life, 
in  the  autumn  of  1864,  — made  the  knowledge  that  this 
foul  deed  had  been  wrought  by  his  brother  well-nigh 
intolerable.  In  the  noble  letter  which  he  sent  to  the 
manager  of  the  Boston  Theatre,  a  reply  to  that  gentle- 

1  In  his  "  History  of  The  Boston  Theatre." 

3*9 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

man's  tactful  communication  conveying  the  sad  news, 
Edwin  Booth  records  his  very  deep  sorrow  because  "  a 
good  man  and  a  justly  honoured  and  patriotic  ruler, 
has  fallen  by  the  hand  of  an  assassin.  .  .  .  Whatever 
calamity,"  he  adds,  "  may  befall  me  and  mine,  my 
country,  one  and  indivisible,  has  my  warmest  devo- 
tion." 

This  tragedy  so  preyed  upon  Edwin  Booth's  mind 
that  he  never  went  to  Washington  again,  and  it  was 
nearly  a  year  before  he  could  be  persuaded  to  return 
to  the  stage.  Finally,  however,  financial  necessity, 
added  to  the  urgent  solicitation  of  his  friends,  availed 
to  bring  him  back  in  "  Hamlet "  to  the  Winter  Garden 
Theatre.  As  he  made  his  entrance  there,  January  3, 
1866,  he  was  greeted  by  nine  great  cheers,  while  the 
assembled  spectators  rose  to  wave  hats  and  handkerchiefs 
and  to  cover  the  stage  with  a  shower  of  bouquets.  Thus 
emphatically  assured  that  the  public  was  by  no  means 
holding  him  responsible,  even  remotely,  for  his  brother's 
deed,  Booth  took  up  his  professional  career  with  renewed 
zest.  A  series  of  revivals,  comparable  only  to  Charles 
Kean's  revivals  of  Shakespeare  in  London,  succeeded 
one  another.  This  series  was  delayed  for  a  time  by  a 
fire  which  destroyed  the  Winter  Garden,  but  it  was 
taken  up  again  when,  on  February  3,  1869,  Booth's 
Theatre  opened  with  a  magnificent  production  of 
"  Romeo  and  Juliet."  Booth  himself  was,  of  course,  the 
Romeo  on  this  occasion;  the  Juliet  was  Miss  Mary 
McVicker,  step-daughter  of  J.  H.  McVicker,  who  was 
for  many  years  a  leader  of  theatrical  management  in 

320 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Chicago.  This  lady  Booth  made  his  wife  on  June  7, 
1869,  at  Long  Branch,  New  Jersey,  where  for  a  time  they 
resided.  Their  married  life  extended  oVer  a  period  of 
twelve  years,  but  was  greatly  clouded,  at  the  end,  by 
the  wife's  insanity. 

The  success  of  Booth's  Theatre  was  immediate  and  en- 
during; throughout  those  years  when  it  was  under  the 
control  of  its  chief  owner,  the  receipts  were  very  large. 
The  lavish  way  in  which  "  Othello,"  "  Winter's  Tale," 
"  Julius  Caesar,"  "  Merchant  of  Venice,"  "  Much  Ado 
About  Nothing,"  and  other  great  Shakesperian  plays 
were  here  successively  presented  not  unnaturally  left 
but  a  small  margin  of  profit,  however,  and  since  Booth 
was  an  unskilful  financier,  bankruptcy  was  inevitable 
at  the  end.  But  the  noble  plays  which  were  here  nobly 
put  on  none  the  less  registered  the  highwater  mark  of 
dramatic  achievement  in  this  country.  Booth  felt  very 
strongly  that  the  stage  might  and  should  be  made  an 
instrument  for  great  good,  and  it  was  in  that  spirit 
that  he  conducted  his  theatre.  To  a  clergyman  who 
once  wrote  to  him,  asking  if  he  could  not  be  admitted 
through  a  side  door  in  order  to  witness,  unobserved, 
these  notable  productions  of  Shakespeare,  the  actor- 
manager  replied:  "There  is  no  door  in  my  theatre 
through  which  God  cannot  see."  And  to  the  Christian 
Union  (now  the  Outlook),  which  had  requested  from 
him  an  article  on  the  moral  aspects  of  the  theatre, 
he  replied:  "  If  the  management  of  theatres  could 
be  denied  to  speculators,  and  placed  in  the  hands  of 
actors  who  value  their  reputation  and  respect  their 

321 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

calling,1  the  stage  would  at  least  afford  healthy  recrea- 
tion, if  not,  indeed,  a  wholesome  stimulus  to  the  exercise 
of  noble  sentiments."  That  the  theatre  should  be  a 
mere  "  shop  for  gain  "  and  "  open  to  every  huckster 
of  immoral  gimcracks  "  seemed  to  Booth  a  very  terrible 
thing. 

Booth's  ideal  of  acting  was  as  high  as  his  idea  of 
what  a  theatre  should  be.  The  players  whom  he  as- 
sembled were  artists  of  tried  and  proved  ability.  Edwin 
Adams,  James  W.  Wallack,  Jr.,  Mrs.  Emma  Waller, 
D.  C.  Anderson,  James  Stark,  Mark  Smith,  Thomas 
J.  Hind,  Jr.,  Charles  R.  Thorne,  Jr.,  Mary  Wells,  and 
Fanny  Morant  were  among  those  who,  for  a  considerable 
period,  were  enrolled  in  the  company,  while  such  better- 
remembered  names  as  Maurice  Barrymore,  Charles 
Fisher,  Louis  Aldrich,  Frank  Mayo,  Charles  Barren, 
John  Drew,  Eben  Plympton,  and  Otis  Skinner  were  at 
times  his  associates  in  this  venture.  Charlotte  Cushman 
Booth  greatly  admired  and  with  John  Gilbert,  J.  H. 
Hackett,  John  McCullough,  Charles  Kean,  E.  A.  Sothern, 
John  Brougham,  James  E.  Murdoch,  Edwin  L.  Daven- 
port, W.  J.  Florence,  and  many  other  contemporary 
players  his  relations  were  most  cordial.  None  of  these, 
however,  were  in  any  sense  his  rivals.  Not  even  Fechter, 
who  was  the  sensation  of  several  hours,  or  Lawrence 

1  Booth  respected  his  calling  so  much  that  nothing  could  make  him 
laugh  on  the  stage.  Once  in  Waterbury,  Connecticut,  when  the  baggage 
failed  to  arrive,  he  played  the  first  three  acts  of  "  Hamlet  "  in  ordinary 
street  clothes,  acting  his  own  part  with  so  much  earnestness  that  the 
subordinates  of  the  theatre,  as  well  as  his  audience,  became  quite  obliv- 
ious to  the  ludicrous  appearance  of  the  King  and  of  the  Ghost  —  the 
latter  with  a  tin  dipper  on  his  head  in  lieu  of  a  helmet. 

322 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Barrett,  whom  the  great  tragedian  honoured  as  a  co- 
star  and  loved  as  a  friend,  threatened  at  any  time  to 
eclipse  Booth.  The  actor  who  did  do  this  was  Henry 
Irving,  and  nothing  finer  can  be  said  of  Edwin  Booth 
than  that,  at  this  crisis,  he  gave  Irving  cordial  welcome 
as  a  player  and  as  a  man. 

Irving's  attitude  towards  Booth  had,  from  their  first 
meeting,  been  one  of  eager  cooperation.  During  the  sec- 
ond visit  of  the  American  tragedian  to  London  (in  1880), 
his  English  brother  was  most  kind  and  friendly;  it 
was  at  Irving's  suggestion  that  there  occurred  at  the 
Lyceum  Theatre  the  notable  revival  of  "  Othello/'  in 
which  Booth  acted  the  Moor,  Irving  the  lago,  Ellen 
Terry  the  Desdemona,  and  William  Terriss  the  Cassio. 
This  engagement  was  for  three  performances  a  week  and 
was  scheduled  to  last  a  month.  The  advance  sale  of 
tickets  was  more  than  four  thousand  dollars,  and  the 
artistic  success  of  the  venture  correspondingly  great. 

It  was,  however,  from  his  tour  of  Germany  that  Booth 
appears  to  have  derived  the  greatest  pride  and  joy 
afforded  by  his  long  life  as  a  player.  At  the  Residenz 
Theatre,  in  Berlin,  where  he  opened  on  January  23, 
1883,  he  appeared  as  Hamlet,  King  Lear,  and  lago, 
while  Hamburg,  Bremen,  Hanover,  and  Leipsic  were 
other  German  cities  at  which  he  was  enthusiastically 
received.  Previous  engagements  had  prevented  him 
from  acting  at  Coburg  and  at  Weimar.  His  season 
ended  on  April  7,  in  the  Stadt  Theatre,  Vienna,  where 
vast  crowds  had  attended  his  every  performance.  The 
trophies  presented  to  Booth  with  true  German  effusion 

323 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

at  each  of  these  cities  were  among  his  most  treasured 
possessions;  they  are  now  preserved  with  other  relics 
at  the  Players'  Club,  New  York. 

The  summer  following  this  eventful  winter  was 
passed  by  the  actor  at  his  home  in  Newport.  He  never 
went  abroad  again.  On  November  5,  1883,  he  resumed 
acting  at  the  Globe  Theatre,  Boston,  and  soon  after  this 
established  in  that  city  the  quaint  and  beautiful  home 
at  29  Chestnut  Street  (now  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Mary 
Morton  Kehew),  from  which  his  daughter  Edwina  was 
married  to  Ignatius  R.  Grossmann  on  May  16,  1885. 
With  Madame  Ristori  he  acted  in  "  Macbeth  "  at  the 
Academy  of  Music,  New  York,  on  May  7,  1885;  with 
Salvini,  a  year  later,  he  played  Hamlet  and  Othello  in 
the  same  place.  In  1887  the  Booth-Barrett  combination 
was  formed;  in  1889  he  was  with  Modjeska;  and  on  April 
4,  1891,  his  active  professional  career  closed  —  with  the 
character  of  Hamlet  —  at  the  Academy  of  Music,  Brook- 
lyn. His  health  at  this  time  was  not  good,  but  he  had  no 
thought  that  this  would  be  his  last  appearance  on  any 
stage;  in  responding  to  the  loud  and  prolonged  cheers 
that  greeted  him  on  this  occasion,  he  told  his  auditors 
that  he  hoped  soon  for  an  improvement  in  health,  and 
that  he  trusted  he  might  then  serve  them  better. 

A  letter  which  he  sent  to  his  friend,  Aldrich,  in  the 
following  fall,  and  which  I  am  here  permitted  to  repro- 
duce through  the  kindness  of  Mrs.  Aldrich,  was  full 
of  his  old-time  sweetness  and  humour.  It  has  to  do  with 
a  beautiful  bedstead  on  which  Booth  had  slept  for  many 
years  and  which  he  presented  to  the  Aldriches  when  he 

324 


EDWIN    BOOTH 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

broke  up  his  Boston  home.  This  "  royal  couch  of  Den- 
mark," as  they  came  to  call  it,  now  dominates  one  of  the 
guest  rooms  at  the  Aldrich  home  on  Mt.  Vernon  Street, 
Boston. 

The  letter  is  dated  November  17, 1891,  and  was  written 
from  the  Players'  Club,  which  Booth  had  founded  in 
Grammery  Park,  and  where,  in  the  third-floor  rooms  re- 
served for  his  use,  he  passed  the  final  years  of  his  life. 

"  Dear  Tom,"  it  begins,  "  Bless  thee!  Thy  wink  was 
timely  wunk  and  made  me  merry!  Sweet  be  thy  slum- 
bers in  thy  royal  bed,  for  I  s'pose  you'll  try  at  least  a 
nap  in  it  —  but  be  careful  how  you  tumble  out  of  it ; 
remember  my  adventure  with  your  four  poster  in  your 
room  of  state  one  dark  night,  long  ago,  when  dear  old 
Tripp  howled  to  greet  me,  —  and  now  he's  canine-ized. 
.  .  .  Hope  you'll  soon  be  here  to  have  a  chat  through 
our  pipes.  I'm  still  pretty  much  of  a  weakling  but  in 
better  condition  than  I've  been  for  many  months.  .  .  . 
Shall  be  glad  to  see  Tal  [Aldrich's  son,  Talbot].  Love  to 
all.  Am  anxiously  waiting  news  from  Florence.  He  was 
lately  chosen  for  Barrett's  place  on  the  board  of  direc- 
tors. Adieux!  Yours  forever, 

"  EDWIN." 

William  Winter,  who  has  written  a  tender  and  beauti- 
ful "  Life  "  of  Booth,  and  who  was  his  dear  friend,  says 
that  it  was  their  intention  to  write  together  in  the  Play- 
ers' Club,  with  the  aid  of  its  library,  a  history  of  the 
theatre  in  America.  Owing  to  various  circumstances 
the  plan  miscarried.  But  what  a  book  that  would  have 
been ! 

The  sweet  patience  which  had  always  been  a  marked 

325 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

quality  of  Booth's  character  did  not  fail  him  when  sick- 
ness and  suffering  fell  to  his  lot.  He  died  on  July  8,  1893, 
full,  as  he  had  lived,  of  happy  belief  in  a  world  beyond 
the  grave.  He  was  laid  at  rest,  beside  the  wife  of  his 
youth,  in  Mount  Auburn  Cemetery.  Thomas  Bailey 
Aldrich,  the  poet,  —  who,  with  Charles  P.  Daly,  Horace 
Howard  Furness,  Joseph  Jefferson,  A.  M.  Palmer, 
William  Bispham,  and  Eastman  Johnson,  acted  as  pall- 
bearer —  wrote  to  Winter  that  when  Booth's  coffin  was! 
lowered  into  the  grave  "  the  sun  went  down."  It  has 
not  since  come  up.  No  American  actor  since  Booth  has 
been  able  to  move  and  stir  audiences  as  his  Hamlet  stirred 
them.  Perhaps  the  reason  lies  in  that  closeness  of 
association  between  Edwin  Booth  and  Hamlet  the  Dane, 
of  which  Henry  Austin  Clapp  has  spoken  in  his  "  Remi- 
niscences," —  an  association  "  which  will  abide  as  long 
as  the  man  and  his  art  and  life  aje  remembered.  For 
in  largeness  and  sweetness,  in  rare  delicacy  and  sensi- 
bility, Booth  was  nobly  human  to  the  core,  after  the 
pattern  of  the  most  human  of  all  the  creations  of  the 
poet.  Like  the  melancholy  prince,  he  was  required  to 
drink  the  bitter  water  of  affliction,  and  to  hold  his  peace 
when  his  heart  was  almost  breaking;  and,  in  its  extra- 
ordinary depth  and  reserve,  his  soul,  even  as  Hamlet's 
and  Milton's 

"  *  Was  like  a  star,  and  dwelt  apart.'  " 


326 


CHAPTER  XIV 

SOME  or  BOOTH'S  MORE  DISTINGUISHED  CONTEMPORARIES 

WHAT  Booth  was  to  tragedy  in  this  country  Joseph 
Jefferson  was  to  comedy.  Like  Booth,  he  came  of  a 
well-known  actor-family;  like  Booth,  he  had  the  high- 
est respect  for  his  art;  and  —  again  like  Booth  —  he 
was  a  scholar  and  a  gentleman.  Jefferson  has  very 
pleasantly  told  his  life  story  in  his  delightful  "  Autobi- 
ography," a  book  which  no  lover  of  the  stage  should 
fail  to  read.  Yet  since  it  would  be  absurd  to  write  at 
all  of  the  American  theatre  without  giving  some  sketch 
of  its  most  gifted  comedian,  it  behooves  me  here  to  re- 
cord that  Rip  Van  Winkle  Jefferson  began  his  active 
life  on  the  "  boards  "  at  the  age  of  four,  by  being  dumped 
from  a  paper  bag  carried  by  Thomas  D.  Rice,  who  was 
impersonating  an  eccentric  and  agile  negro  and  who  sang 
this  couplet: 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I'd  have  yer  for  to  know, 
I'se  got  a  little  darkey  here,  to  jump  Jim  Crow." 

Whereupon  both  the  man  and  the  diminutive  lad,  who 
was  dressed  exactly  like  him,  danced  the  dance  and  sang 
the  song  that  are  remembered  to  this  day. 
From  this  beginning,  Jefferson  served  his  apprentice- 

327 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

ship  as  an  actor  through  a  boyhood  and  youth  passed  in 
roving  west  and  south  with  his  father,  playing  the  while 
in  all  sorts  of  barns  and  cabins  until,  by  the  time  he  was 
twenty,  he  knew  enough  about  the  stage  to  be  acceptable 
in  Chanfrau's  Company  at  the  National  Theatre,  New 
York.  A  bright  young  English  girl,  then  playing  at  the 
National,  consented,  on  May  19,  1850,  to  become  Mrs. 
Joseph  Jefferson,  and  that  fall  husband  and  wife  acted 
together  at  the  Olympic.  The  next  year  Jefferson  was 
transferred  to  Niblo's  Garden  in  the  same  list  with 
Lester  Wallack,  Mrs.  John  Drew,  and  Charles  Wheat- 
leigh.  Then  he  became  stage  manager  for  Henry  C. 
Jarrett,  who  owned  the  Baltimore  Museum,  where  both 
Henry  and  Thomas  Placide,  J.  W.  Wallack,  A.  H.  Daven- 
port, and  Mary  Devlin  were  acting.  Later  he  became 
manager  for  John  T.  Ford  in  Richmond,  Virginia,  made 
a  tour  of  the  Southern  States  and  was  engaged  by 
W.  E.  Burton  to  act  for  a  time  in  the  Arch  Street 
Theatre  at  Philadelphia. 

It  must  have  seemed  good  to  young  Jefferson  to  be 
back  in  the  Quaker  City  even  temporarily,  for  there  he 
had  been  born,  February  20,  1829,  and  there  his  father 
and  grandfather  had  delighted  audiences  before  him. 
For  the  Joseph  Jefferson  that  most  of  us  know  was  the 
fourth  generation  of  a  famous  family  of  actors.  His 
great-grandfather  had  gone  on  the  stage  under  Gar- 
rick's  patronage,  or  at  least  with  his  help  and  advice. 
His  grandfather,  an  able  and  even  brilliant  actor,  had 
also  made  for  himself  a  notable  name. 

After  the  Philadelphia  engagement,  Jefferson  went 

328 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

to  Europe  for  a  season  of  recreation  and  study,  joining 
Laura  Keene's  company  on  his  return  in  November,  1856. 
In  1857  he  played  Dr.  Pangloss,  and  the  next  year  he 
shared  with  E.  A.  Sothern  the  glory  of  "  Our  American 
Cousin,"  playing  Asa  Trenchard  with  scarcely  less  suc- 
cess than  attended  Sothern's  Lord  Dundreary.  Then 
he  went  to  the  Winter  Garden,  of  which  William  Stuart 
and  Dion  Boucicault  were  at  this  time  managers,  and 
while  there  played  Caleb  Plummer  and  wrote  the  ver- 
sion of  "  Oliver  Twist  "  in  which  J.  W.  Wallack,  Jr., 
made  Fagin  famous.  Matilda  Heron  was  the  Nancy 
Sikes  of  this  production. 

Early  the  next  year  Jefferson's  wife  died,  and  to  ease 
his  loneliness  he  took  to  wandering,  California,  Australia, 
South  America,  and  England  being  in  turn  visited. 
Meeting  Dion  Boucicault  in  London,  at  the  end  of 
these  wander-years,  he  confided  to  him  his  desire  for 
a  new  play  and  his  faith  that  an  acceptable  piece  could 
be  made  of  Irving's  story  of  Rip  Van  Winkle,  with  the 
result  that  Boucicault  at  once  began  work  on  the  version 
which  Jefferson  was  soon  to  make  famous.  There  had 
been  several  dramatizations  of  this  story  before,  and  Jef- 
ferson himself  had  acted  in  one  of  them,  but  the  possibili- 
ties of  the  subject  had  just  been  freshly  called  to  his  mind, 
he  tells  us,  by  coming  on  an  allusion  to  his  father's 
acting,  as  he  lay  lazily  reading  in  the  loft  of  an  old  barn 
one  summer  day  of  1859.  The  book  before  him  was  "  The 
Life  and  Letters  of  Washington  Irving,"  and  this  is  the 
passage  that  caught  his  eye:  "  September  30,  1858.  Mr. 
Irving  came  in  town  to  remain  a  few  days.  In  the  evening 

329 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

went  to  Laura  Keene's  Theatre  to  see  young  Jefferson 
as  Goldfinch  in  Holcrof t's  comedy  of  '  The  Road  To 
Ruin.'  Thought  Jefferson,  the  father,  one  of  the  best 
actors  he  had  ever  seen;  and  the  son  reminded  him, 
in  look,  gesture,  size  and  (  make/  of  the  father.  Had 
never  seen  the  father  as  Goldfinch,  but  was  delighted 
with  the  son." 

Apparently  this  passage  kindled  anew  Jefferson's 
enthusiasm  for  Irving's  work.  "  He  was  anxious  to  ap- 
pear in  London,"  wrote  Boucicault  later,  "  and  all  his 
pieces  had  been  played  there.  The  managers  would 
not  give  him  an  appearance  unless  he  could  offer  them 
a  new  play.  He  had  played  a  piece  called  '  Rip  Van 
Winkle,'  but  when  he  submitted  this  for  their  perusal 
they  rejected  it.  Still,  he  was  so  desirous  of  playing 
Rip  that  I  took  down  Washington  Irving's  story  and 
read  it  over.  It  was  hopelessly  undramatic. 

"  '  Joe,'  I  said,  '  this  old  sot  is  not  a  pleasant  figure. 
He  lacks  romance.  I  daresay  you  make  a  fine  sketch 
of  the  old  beast,  but  there  is  no  interest  in  him.  He  may 
be  picturesque,  but  he  is  not  dramatic.  I  would  prefer 
to  start  him  in  a  play  as  a  young  scamp,  thoughtless, 
gay,  just  a  curly-headed,  good-humoured  fellow  such  as 
all  the  village  girls  would  love  and  the  children  and  dogs 
would  run  after.'  Jefferson  threw  up  his  hands  in  de- 
spair. It  was  totally  opposed  to  his  artistic  preconcep- 
tion. But  I  insisted  and  he  reluctantly  conceded.  Well, 
I  wrote  the  play  as  he  plays  it  now.  It  was  not  much  of 
a  literary  production,  and  it  was  with  some  apology  that 
it  was  handed  to  him.  He  read  it,  and  when  he  met  me 
I  said:  '  It  is  a  poor  thing,  Joe.'  '  Well,'  he  replied,  '  it 

330 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

is  good  enough  for  me.'  It  was  produced.  Three  or  four 
weeks  afterward  he  called  on  me,  and  his  first  words 
were:  '  You  were  right  about  making  Rip  a  young  man. 
Now  I  could  not  conceive  and  play  him  in  any  other 
shape/  "  1 

The  thing  was,  indeed,  almost  perfect,  and  when  given 
its  initial  performance  at  the  London  Adelphi,  on  the 
evening  of  September  4,  1865,  scored  a  great  success,  as 
it  deserved  to  do.  For  the  part,  as  interpreted  by  Jef- 
ferson, had  the  irresistible  charm  of  poetry.  Moreover, 
it  is  perhaps  the  most  profoundly  moral  piece  which  has 
ever  drawn  large  and  promiscuous  audiences  to  a  theatre. 
A  minister  once  wrote  of  the  play:  "  No  sermon,  ex- 
cept that  of  Christ  when  He  stood  with  the  adulterous 
woman,  ever  illustrated  the  power  of  love  to  conquer 
evil,  and  to  win  the  wanderer  as  that  little  part  (of  Rip) 
does,  so  perfectly  embodied  by  this  genius  which  God 
has  given  us,  to  show  in  the  drama  the  power  of  love 
over  the  sins  of  the  race."  In  similar  strain  William 
Winter  has  testified  to  the  wonderful,  lasting  impression 
produced  by  Jefferson's  acting  of  this  part:  "  Not 
Edwin  Booth's  Hamlet,  nor  Ristori's  Queen  Elizabeth 
.  .  .  nor  Adelaide  Neilson's  Juliet,  nor  Salvini's  Othello," 
he  once  wrote,  "  has  so  towered  in  popularity  or  so  dom- 
inated contemporary  thought  upon  the  influence  of  the 
stage." 

Henceforth  Jefferson  was  permitted  to  play  little 
else  than  Rip.  In  1867  he  married  Sarah  Isabel  Warren, 

1  In  "  Famous  Actor  Families  of  America,"  by  Montrose  J.  Moses.  T. 
Y.  Crowell  Co.  New  York. 

331 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

a  distant  relative,  and  his  private  life  was  again  a  happy 
one.  He  continued  to  play  almost  till  the  time  of  his 
death,  in  1905.  The  service  that  he  has  done  to  the 
American  theatre  by  elevating  the  social  and  intellectual 
standing  of  the  actor  could  not  easily  be  estimated.  A 
former  President  of  the  United  States  was  his  familiar 
friend  and  playmate  in  the  evening  of  his  days,  and  the 
two  leading  universities  of  this  country  were  proud  to 
make  him  a  Master  of  Arts.  Moreover,  at  the  time  of 
his  death,  he  was  president  of  "  The  Players  "  -  which 
again  links  his  name  as  it  should  be  linked  with  that  of 
Edwin  Booth. 

Sothern  has  been  mentioned  as  one  of  the  early  part- 
ners of  Jefferson's  great  success.  His  career,  also,  is  full  of 
interest.1  He  had  been  intended  by  his  father  for  the  pro- 
fession of  medicine,  but  by  reason  of  a  student's  joke  (I 
believe  he  painted  green  a  corpse  upon  which  he  had  been 
told  to  practise  dissection)  was  expelled  from  the  Medi- 
cal School.  After  trying  business  without  any  great  suc- 
cess, he  wandered  into  the  profession  of  an  actor.  This 
work  he  found  congenial,  even  if  it  brought  him  only  a 
very  scanty  income,  and  it  was  with  the  utmost  joy, 
therefore,  that  he  accepted  an  offer  to  sail  for  Boston  and 

1  Edward  Hugh  Sothern  (born  in  New  Orleans,  December  6,  1859) 
is  the  son  of  Edward  Askew  Sothern;  he  first  appeared  in  small  parts 
with  his  father  at  Abbey's  Park  Theatre,  New  York,  in  1879.  He  was 
leading  comedian  in  the  company  of  John  McCullough  and  has  had  much 
experience  in  many  kinds  of  parts.  He  now  plays  Shakespeare  entirely 
with  Julia  Marlowe,  whom  he  married  August  17,  1911.  (Virginia  Har- 
ned,  also  an  actress,  was  his  first  wife.)  Julia  Marlowe  was  born  in  Eng- 
land in  1870,  but  came  to  America  when  only  five  years  old  and  has 
been  connected  with  the  stage  here  from  her  twelfth  year.  Her  metro- 
politan debut  was  made  as  Parthenia  in  "  Ingomar." 

332 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

act  at  the  National  Theatre.  His  debut  occurred  on 
November  i,  1852,  in  the  character  of  Dr.  Pangloss. 
Mrs.  J.  R.  Vincent  was  then  a  member  of  the  National's 
company,  and  she  promptly  befriended  the  young  actor 
and  his  gently-born  girl-wife.  So  them  had  not  recovered 
from  his  tendency  to  practical  joking,  however,  and  he 
made  his  new  friend  quite  miserable  for  a  time  with 
"  spiritual  manifestations."  From  the  National  the 
young  Englishman  went  to  the  Howard  and  then,  dis- 
covering, as  he  naively  remarked,  "  that  Boston  was 
not  exactly  the  field  for  success,"  he  went  to  New  York 
and  got  an  engagement  with  Mr.  Barnum  to  play  twice 
a  day  for  twenty  dollars  a  week  at  his  Museum  in  the 
Herald  building.  Some  years  later,  after  a  varied  career, 
he  stumbled  into  fame  and  fortune  as  Lord  Dundreary 
in  "  Our  American  Cousin,"  at  Laura  Keene's  Theatre 
in  New  York. 

One  part  which  Sothern  played  successfully,  a  part 
very  far  from  that  with  which  his  posthumous  fame  is 
identified,  was  that  of  Armand  to  the  Camille  of  Ma- 
tilda Heron. 

Miss  Heron  introduced  to  America  perhaps  the  best 
known  English  version  of  Dumas's  piece;  it  is  said  that 
her  share  of  the  profits  from  this  venture  were  no  less 
than  one  hundred  thousand  dollars.  Yet  she  died 
very  poor  after  a  career  full,  on  its  professional  side, 
of  triumphs,  and  on  its  domestic  side,  of  troubled 
romance. 

Born  in  Londonderry,  Ireland,  December  i,  1830,  of 
humble  farmer  folk,  Matilda  Heron  was  barely  twelve 

333 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

when  brought  by  her  parents  to  America,  and  sent  to 
school  near  the  Walnut  Street  Theatre  in  Philadelphia. 
She  early  became  enamoured  of  the  theatre  and  its  peo- 
ple; her  first  stage  appearance  was  at  the  Walnut  Street, 
February  17,  1851,  as  Bianca  in  Milman's  tragedy  of 
"  Fazio."  The  year  following  she  played  Juliet  in  Wash- 
ington to  the  Romeo  of  Charlotte  Cushman.  Here  her 
success  was  so  great  that  Thomas  S.  Hamblin  of  the 
Bowery  Theatre,  New  York,  engaged  her  to  be  his  lead- 
ing lady.  Philadelphia,  Boston,  and  San  Francisco  in 
turn  received  her,  the  latter  city  with  enthusiasm  which 
knew  no  bounds.  "  Miss  Heron  has  been  so  lauded  by 
the  press,  since  her  arrival  in  California,"  declared  one 
of  her  critics,  "  that  we  should  be  almost  obliged  to  in- 
vent a  new  dictionary  from  which  to  search  for  words  to 
express  our  high  estimate  of  her  talent."  The  eligible 
young  men  of  the  city,  too,  were  all  at  the  actress's 
feet. 

Upon  one  of  them,  Henry  Herbert  Byrne,  a  brilliant 
lawyer,  she  bestowed  her  hand  in  marriage.  The  cere- 
mony was  performed  secretly,  June  10,  1854,  in  St. 
Patrick's  Church,  San  Francisco,  and  for  five  days  they 
were  together.  Then,  according  to  a  previous  arrange- 
ment, the  bride  set  off  to  take  her  departure  from  the 
stage,  in  the  East;  her  husband  was  to  join  her  after  he 
had  completed  some  important  business  undertakings. 
He  did  so,  but  remained  with  her  but  a  single  day.  Why 
they  parted  has  never  been  known,  for  the  wife  is  said 
to  have  spoken  of  Byrne,  in  her  later  days,  as  "  the 
first  love  of  her  life;  "  and  there  is  every  evidence 

334 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

that  to  him,  also,  their  separation  spelled  tragedy. 
He  died  in  1872,  leaving  to  a  friend  his  considerable 
fortune. 

Meanwhile  Miss  Heron  became  more  and  more  fa- 
mous; and  contracted,  too,  another  unhappy  marriage. 
This  union,  however,  endured  a  dozen  years,  and  from 
it  sprang  one  daughter,  Bijou,  upon  whom  the  mother 
lavished  all  the  pent-up  affection  of  a  richly  emotional 
nature.  Miss  Heron  died  in  New  York,  May  7,  1877. 

The  Camille  of  Matilda  Heron  was  not  the  first  or 
the  best  America  had  known.  But  it  became  the  most 
popular  by  reason  of  its  amazing,  almost  revolting  natu- 
ralness. She  had  seen  Mme.  Doche  in  the  part  in  Paris, 
had  perceived  at  once  its  enormous  "  drawing  "  possibil- 
ities, and  within  a  month  had  translated  it,  mastered  the 
business  of  the  role,  and  sailed  for  home  ready  to  play  it. 
She  did  play  it  first  in  October,  1855;  but  it  was  not 
until  1857  that  she  gave  it  in  New  York  and  won  a  great 
metropolitan  success.  No  harrowing  thought,  no  dis- 
gusting detail  was  lacking  in  the  character  as  she  gave 
it.  Yet  this  very  offensiveness  added  to  its  power. 
William  Winter,1  as  well  as  scores  of  other  critics,  had 
only  the  highest  praise  for  her  work  in  this  role.  "  She 
had  a  wildness  of  emotion,  a  force  of  brain,  a  vitality 
in  embodiment  and  many  indefinable  magnetic  qualities, 
that  combined,"  he  declares,  "  to  make  her  exceptional 
among  human  creatures.  .  .  .  She  appeared  in  other 
parts  but  Camille  was  the  part  she  always  acted  best. 
It  afforded  the  agonized  and  agonizing  situation  which 

1  New  York  Tribune,  March  12,  1-877. 

335 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

alone  could  serve  for  the  utterance  of  her  tempestuous 
nature." 

Another  emotional  actress  who  made  a  pronounced 
success  of  Camille  —  though  she  is  more  intimately  as- 
sociated in  our  memory  with  the  big  Sardou  roles  —  was 
Fanny  Davenport.  The  Davenports  are  very  closely 
bound  up,  indeed,  with  dramatic  history  in  America  dur- 
ing the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century.  E.  L. 
Davenport,  Fanny's  father,  was  Boston-born  (November 
15,  1815)  and  had  enjoyed  an  early  acquaintance  with 
Forrest  and  with  George  H.  Barrett,  then  a  member  of 
the  old  Tremont  Theatre  Company;  Barrett,  indeed, 
secured  for  the  youth  an  opening  at  Providence  to  sup- 
port the  elder  Booth  and  so  started  him  on  his  theatrical 
career.  Making  a  success  in  this  initial  role,  Davenport 
got  an  opportunity  to  play  at  Newport  in  Douglas 
Jerrold's  "  Black-eyed  Susan,"  and  this  led  to  his  being 
engaged  as  a  member  of  the  stock  company  at  the 
Tremont  Theatre,  Boston.  For  two  seasons  he  had 
valuable  utility  experience  at  this  house,  going  thence  to 
the  Walnut  Street  Theatre,  Philadelphia,  where  he 
stayed  for  three  years.  A  brief  engagement  at  the  old 
Bowery  Theatre,  New  York,  —  playing  Titus  to  the 
Brutus  of  Thomas  Hamblin,  —  now  intervened,  after 
which  Davenport  began  his  long  career  as  a  star.  The 
connection  with  Mrs.  Anna  Cora  Mowatt,  which  soon 
followed,  was  a  very  fortunate  thing  for  them  both,  these 
two  excellent  players  drawing  large  houses  wherever  they 
appeared,  whether  in  America  or  in  England.  Because 
Macready  had  become  attracted  to  his  work,  Daven- 

336 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

port  remained  in  England  for  seven  years.  Then,  in 
August,  1854,  he  and  his  wife  (formerly  Fanny  Vining, 
daughter  of  a  London  comedian)  sailed  for  home,  open- 
ing at  the  Broadway  Theatre  in  New  York  on  Sep- 
tember n,  in  "  Othello."  Everywhere  Davenport  was 
warmly  greeted,  and  when  he  reached  Boston,  in  the 
course  of  his  starring  tour  (on  January  i,  1855),  to  play 
Hamlet,  a  banner  bearing  the  words:  "  Welcome  home, 
E.  L.  Davenport,"  was  flung  across  the  street.  During 
the  years  immediately  following  he  played  a  great  deal 
with  Miss  Cushman,  and  in  the  summer  of  1858  was 
a  member  of  the  stock  company  at  the  Boston  Theatre. 
On  August  29,  1859,  he  obtained  control  of  the  Howard 
Athenaeum. 

There  had  been  good  companies  before  at  this  famous 
old  theatre,  —  Joseph  Jefferson  was  a  member  of  the 
1853-1854  group  of  players,  —  but  the  men  and  women 
whom  Davenport  assembled  were  altogether  unusual  in 
their  high  average  of  ability;  they  included  Mrs.  Farren, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  W.  J.  Florence,  Matilda  Heron,  Julia 
Dean  Hayne,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  J.  W.  Wallack,  Jr.,  John 
Brougham,  Edwin  Booth.  John  McCullough,  Lawrence 
Barrett,  and  W.  J.  LeMoyne  were  other  well-known  ac- 
tors occasionally  connected  with  the  Howard  during 
Davenport's  regime  of  over  two  years.  The  relations  of^_ 
the  company  to  their  manager  were  delightful.  For  all  \ 
admired  and  respected  Davenport  and  when  he  put  up  a 
notice:  "  Boys,  don't  smoke,  and  if  you  love  your  man- 
ager, turn  down  the  gas,"  they  were  glad  to  accede  to 
both  requests. 

337 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

At  the  Davenports'  home  there  were  no  less  than  nine 
little  people,  and  it  was,  therefore,  rather  a  convenience 
than  otherwise  that  some  of  the  children  had  usually  to 
be  seated  at  a  little  side  table,  set  apart  for  the  naughty. 
Once,  when  Fanny  was  occupying  this  board  all  alone, 
Booth,  who  was  usually  there  for  Sunday  dinner,  came 
in,  and  perceiving  her  shame  and  mortification,  took  his 
chair  from  the  place  reserved  for  him  at  the  big  table  and 
set  it  close  beside  the  little  girl's.  Then  he  quietly  ate 
his  meal  with  her. 

To  a  friend  Fanny  Davenport  once  wrote  that  her 
first  appearance  on  any  stage  was  at  the  Howard  Ath- 
enaeum, Boston,  July  4,  1858,  when  her  father  and 
mother  and  the  whole  company  sang  "  The  Star-Span- 
gled Banner." 

"  I  stood  beside  my  mother,"  she  said,  "  and  held  the 
American  flag,  and  I  remember  receiving  the  praise  of 
the  one  dearest  to  me  in  all  the  world,  for  trying  to  wave 
the  flag  when  the  line  '  the  star-spangled  banner  in  tri- 
umph shall  wave  '  was  sung.  I  was  then  in  my  seventh 
year  and,  being  too  small  to  move  the  flag  alone,  my 
father  helped  me.  I  wore  a  white  frock,  open-work 
stockings,  low  slippers  and  a  red,  white  and  blue 
sash. 

"My  first  appearance  in  a  play  was  at  the  same 
theatre  in  one  of  W.  J.  Florence's  burlesques.  Sothern 
had  just  played  an  engagement  and  I  came  on  dressed 
like  Dundreary,  and  did  the  sneeze  and  the  hop,  with  a 
line  from  '  Our  American  Cousin.'  From  the  first  year 
he  took  the  theatre  my  father  put  my  name  in  the  list 
of  the  company  because  it  pleased  me  and  made  me 
think  that  I  was  on  the  stage.  I  think  he  allowed  me 

338 


The,  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

to  appear  once  after  the  first  two  seasons;  then  I  was 
sent  to  school  and  did  not  play  a  part  until  I  was  thirteen 
years  old." 

How  many  parts  Fanny  Davenport  played  after  that 
and  how  extraordinarily  well  she  played  them  there  is 
no  need  to  say  here.  Her  first  adult  role  was  in  the  com- 
bination her  father  formed  with  J.  W.  Wallack,  Jr. ;  after 
this  she  played  soubrette  parts  in  Louisville,  and  then 
she  passed  to  the  Arch  Street  Theatre  in  Philadelphia, 
where,  under  the  management  of  Mrs.  John  Drew,  and 
while  appearing  in  dramas,  farces,  and  operas,  she  at- 
tracted (1869)  the  notice  of  Augustin  Daly  and  was  in- 
vited to  enter  service  at  his  New  York  Theatre  on 
Twenty-fourth  Street,  near  Broadway.  Her  subsequent 
repertoire  was  of  appalling  length  and  scope.  Yet  it  is 
of  her  Sardou  period,  as  has  been  said,  that  most  of  us 
think,  when  the  name  of  Fanny  Davenport  is  mentioned 
-such  power  and  passion,  such  a  wealth  of  artistic 
temperament  did  she  display  in  these  r61es.  She  died 
at  her  summer  home  in  South  Duxbury,  September  26, 
1898. 

No  less  famous  a  manager  than  Davenport  was 
"  Baron  "  James  H.  Hackett,  father  of  the  James  Hackett 
now  on  the  stage.  Hackett  was  a  man  of  cultivation 
and  fine  tastes,  and  he  had,  in  addition,  a  considerable 
turn  for  business.  But  he  had  been  a  successful  amateur 
as  a  youth,  and  so,  whenever  his  speculative  ventures 
went  badly,  his  fancy  turned  with  loving  thought  to  the 
stage  as  a  career.  In  April,  1827,  he  enjoyed  a  brief  — 
very  brief  —  season  at  the  Covent  Garden  Theatre, 

339 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

London;  his  first  real  success  came  when  he  played  Fal- 
staff  to  Kean's  Hotspur  in  New  York,  in  1832.  He  re- 
mains to  this  day  the  best  Falstaff  the  American  stage 
has  ever  known.  Subsequently  he  tried  to  play  serious 
Shakesperian  roles,  and  if  scholarship  alone  were  neces- 
sary to  this  end,  he  would  have  succeeded.  He  and 
President  John  Quincy  Adams  once  had  an  interesting 
correspondence  concerning  the  character  of  Hamlet, 
and  Hackett  finally  played  the  part.  But  not  to  his 
own  satisfaction.  He  had  come  almost  to  agree  with 
Adams,  indeed,  that  Shakespeare  at  his  best  was  too 
subtle  to  be  presented  adequately  on  the  stage.  Those 
who  are  interested  in  this  theory  should  look  up  Hackett's 
"  Notes  and  Comments  on  Shakespeare." 

The  only  woman  player  native  to  our  soil  to  whom  the 
adjective  "  great "  can  fitly  be  applied  was  Charlotte 
Cushman,  —  according  to  the  dictum  of  Henry  Austin 
Clapp,  William  Winter,  and  various  other  critics  who 
were  her  contemporaries.  Beauty,  certainly,  had  noth- 
ing to  do  with  this  actress's  success.  Gaunt  of  figure  and 
homely  of  feature,  she  was  so  conspicuously  lacking  in 
the  personal  gifts  that  usually  go  to  make  up  a  stage 
heroine  that  she  frequently  had  the  greatest  possible 
difficulty  in  persuading  managers  to  give  her  even  an  au- 
dience. 

George  Vandenhoff  tells  a  story  which  strikingly  illus-, 
trates  this,  a  story  the  more  convincing  from  the  fact 
that  it  was  related  to  him  by  the  manager  chiefly  con- 
cerned,  Maddox   of   the   Princess's   Theatre,   London. 
Charlotte  had  applied  to  Maddox  for  an  engagement. 

340 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

She  had  brought  with  her  letters  from  many  people 
likely  to  have  weight  in  theatrical  circles,  —  and  she  had 
already  proved,  in  America,  that  she  could  act.  But  her 
personal  appearance  was  so  far  from  prepossessing  that 
the  little  Hebrew  was  as  obdurate  as  Shylock  in  declining 
her  proffered  services.  Repulsed,  though  not  conquered, 
she  rose  to  depart;  but,  as  she  reached  the  door,  she 
turned  and  exclaimed:  "  I  know  I  have  enemies  in  this 
country;  but  —  (and  here  she  cast  herself  on  her  knees," 
raising  her  clenched  hand  aloft)  so  help  me  —  !  I'll 
defeat  them!  "  She  uttered  these  words  with  the  energy 
of  Lady  Macbeth  and  with  the  prophetic  spirit  of  Meg 
Merrilies  —  and  of  course  made  an  impression.  Im- 
mediately Maddox  promised  her  an  appearance,  and 
afterwards  gave  her  an  engagement  in  his  theatre.  Thus 
it  came  about  that  she  was  playing  the  Queen  to  Forrest's 
Macbeth  on  that  occasion  when  the  American  tragedian 
fancied  himself  the  victim  of  Macready's  jealousy  and 
persecution. 

Lady  Macbeth  was  the  part  in  which  Miss  Cushman 
made  her  first  great  success,  in  1837,  when  she  was  only 
twenty-one  years  old;  this  was,  also,  the  role  in  which 
she  took  her  farewell  of  the  stage  at  the  Globe  Theatre, 
Boston,  May  15,  1875.  It  was  one  of  her  greatest 
achievements.  Clapp  has  said  x  that  he  never  knew  a 
voice  so  saturated  with  anguish  as  Miss  Cushman' s, 
when  pronouncing  Lady  Macbeth's  soliloquy  near  the 
opening  of  the  second  scene  of  the  play's  third  act,  espe- 
cially the  four  lines: 

1  "  Reminiscences  of  A  Dramatic  Critic." 
341 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

..."  Naught's  had,  all's  spent, 
When  our  desire  is  got  without  content: 
'Tis  safer  to  be  that  which  we  destroy 
Than  by  destruction  dwell  in  doubtful  joy." 

Miss  Cushman  had  seen  Cooper  and  Mrs.  Powell  act, 
and  from  these  players,  who  maintained  the  tradition 
of  the  stately  Kembles,  she  had  insensibly  acquired 
something  of  the  majestic  Kemble  style.  This  grand 
manner  served  her  particularly  well  in  her  Queen  Kath- 
arine of  "  Henry  VIII "  -  a  role  which  is  generally  ac- 
counted her  crowning  achievement.  All  the  commenta- 
tors dwell  with  tremendous  enthusiasm  on  her  work  in 
this  piece  —  especially  towards  the  end  of  the  play,  when 
speaking  Katharine's  last  command  that  she  "  be  used 
with  honour  "  after  her  death,  and,  "  although  un- 
queened,  be  interred  yet  like  a  queen  and  a  daughter 
of  a  king." 

It  is  as  Meg  Merrilies,  however,  in  the  stage  version 
of  "  Guy  Mannering,"  that  Miss  Cushman  is  best  re- 
membered. Her  first  opportunity  to  do  this  part  came 
when  she  had  been  on  the  stage  only  four  years  and  arose 
from  an  emergency  caused  by  the  illness  of  the  actress 
who  had  been  cast  for  the  role.  She  was  told,  a  few  hours 
before  the  overture,  that  she  might  read  the  lines.  She 
was  determined  to  act  the  part  instead;  and  act  it  she 
did  —  superbly.  What  concentration,  what  trained 
powers  of  mind  and  body  this  presupposes  —  to  have 
memorized  in  one  afternoon  over  forty  speeches,  at 
the  same  time  inventing  the  business,  preparing  the 

342 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

make-up,  and  vitalizing  the  conception  of  a  character 
like  Meg  Merrilies !  The  strange  and  witchlike  creature 
that  resulted  was  a  very  wonderful  figure,  and  the  same 
might  be  said  of  Miss  Cushman's  Nancy  Sykes.  Law- 
rence Barrett,  who  played  Fagin  to  her  Nancy,  has 
declared  her  death  scene  in  this  play  superlatively 
thrilling.  "  Her  management  of  her  voice  as  she  called 
for  Bill  and  begged  him  to  kiss  her,  sounded,"  he  said, 
"  as  if  she  spoke  through  blood." 

Rather  curiously,  Miss  Cushman,  though  an  essentially 
womanly  woman,  was  fond  of  playing  male  roles.  Mar- 
guerite Merington  attributes  this  taste  partly  to  Char- 
lotte's generous  desire  to  bring  forward  her  beautiful 
sister  Susan;  she  declares  it  possible,  however,  that  Miss 
Cushman's  active  nature  rebelled  against  the  encum- 
brance, physical  and  psychic,  of  petticoats  in  the  exer- 
cise of  art,  "as  in  the  case  of  Rosa  Bonheur.  Indeed, 
placing  the  portraits  of  these  two  famous  women  side 
by  side,"  says  Miss  Merington,1  "  one  notes  many 
points  of  resemblance  in  the  square  outline  that  marked 
each  face,  the  strong  yet  mobile  features,  the  clear, 
direct  gaze,  and  a  certain  manliness  in  the  general  effect, 
that  nevertheless  does  not  gainsay  a  lovable  femi- 
ninity." 

Vandenhoff,  who  was  often  the  Mercutio  when  Miss 
Cushman  played  Romeo,  strongly  resented  her  assump- 
tion of  this  role.  "  There  should  be  a  law  against  such 
perversions,"  he  insists.  "  Romeo  requires  a  man,  to  feel 
his  passion  and  to  express  his  despair.  A  woman,  in 

1  In  the  Theatre  Magazine. 

343 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

attempting  it,  unsexes  herself  to  no  purpose,  except  to 
destroy  all  interest  in  the  play,  and  all  sympathy  for 
the  ill-fated  lovers."  Claude  Melnotte,  Cardinal  Wolsey, 
and  Hamlet  were  other  prominent  male  parts  which  Miss 
Cushman  played.  Lawrence  Hutton  pronounced  her 
Wolsey  a  most  remarkable  performance  and  praised 
highly,  too,  the  earnest  and  truthful  manner  in  which  she 
played  Claude. 

1  In  view  of  the  two  or  three-hundred-dollar-a-week 
salaries  now  frequently  paid  to  leading  ladies  —  cos- 
tumes being  supplied  —  it  is  interesting  to  learn  that 
for  many  years  Miss  Cushman  received  only  a  modest 
twenty-five  dollars  a  week,  upon  which  she  had  to  dress 
her  roles  besides  supporting  herself  and  her  family.  It 
is  not  strange,  therefore,  that  later,  when  her  material 
reward  became  greater,  she  sometimes  showed  herself 
to  be  a  little  grasping.  William  Winter  relates  that 
when  arrangements  were  being  made  for  her  farewell 
performance  at  Booth's  Theatre,  she  was  much  more  in- 
terested in  the  amount  of  extra  salary  she  was  to  receive 

""for  that  night,  than  in  the  elaborate  exercises  planned 
for  the  occasion.  And  I  have  it  on  unimpeachable  au- 
thority that  she  disposed  of  the  bronze  statues  presented 
to  her  on  the  occasion  of  her  farewell  performance  at 
the  Globe  Theatre,  Boston,  for  money,  arguing  that  as 
she  already  possessed  similar  ones,  the  money  was  much 
better  worth  having.  All  of  which  is,  perhaps,  only  an- 
other way  of  saying  that  Charlotte  Cushman  was  blessed 
with  a  generous  share  of  New  England  thrift.  To  read 
these  anecdotes  of  her  is  to  recall,  indeed,  David  Garrick's 

344 


MRS.  DE  NAVARRO  (MARY  ANDERSON) 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

protecting  care  for  candle-ends.  Like  Garrick,  however, 
she  could  give  lavishly  to  worthy  causes  —  she  contrib- 
uted more  than  eight  thousand  dollars  to  the  Sanitary 
Commission  — •  and,  also  like  Garrick,  she  did  much,  by 
the  dignity  of  her  private  life,  to  elevate  the  tone  of 
the  acting  profession. 

Another  American  woman  who  has  done  this  is  Miss 
Mary  Anderson,  perhaps  the  most  celebrated  of  our 
other  home-born  actresses,  and  a  player  whose  natural 
endowments  Miss  Cushman  at  once  recognized.  Her 
advice  to  the  girl  was  to  begin  "  at  the  top,"  where,  as 
Daniel  Webster  said,  there  is  always  plenty  of  room. 
This  counsel  Mary  Anderson  devoutly  followed.  At 
the  age  of  sixteen  she  made  her  debut  in  Louisville  in 
the  part  of  Juliet  and,  the  verdict  being  in  her  favour,1 
the  manager  gave  her  a  regular  engagement.  Thus 
from  January,  1876,  until  the  season  preceding  her  mar- 
riage and  retirement  to  private  life,  she  played  with  in- 
creasing popularity  throughout  the  chief  cities  of  the 
United  States.  In  1883  she  appeared  at  the  Lyceum  in 
London  and  acted  as  Parthenia  in  "  Ingomar  "  with  suc- 
cess in  England  and  Ireland.  Her  last  professional  per- 
formance was  at  Washington,  in  the  spring  of  1880;  the 
last  part  that  she  acted  was  Hermione. 

This  was  in  the  famous  revival  of  the  "  Winter's  Tale," 
one  of  the  few  great  productions  of  which  I  am  able  to 
speak  from  first-hand  knowledge.  To  be  sure,  I  was  only 
a  child  of  twelve  when  I  saw  Miss  Anderson  in  this  piece, 

1  John  M  cCullough  was  especially  enthusiastic  over  her  work  and 
said  so. 

345 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

and  as  I  was  not  a  precocious  child  I  was  much  more 
impressed  by  her  serene  and  radiant  beauty  than  by  the 
power  of  her  acting.  Yet  I  do  recall  very  clearly  the 
overflowing  joyousness  of  her  Perdita  and  I  also  remem- 
ber well  the  gracious  loveliness  of  her  Hermione.  For 
of  course  I  was  not  affronted,  as  the  Shakesperian  critics  l 
claimed  to  be,  by  the  doubling  of  the  parts  nor  by  the 
expurgating  of  the  text  to  suit  the  changed  and  chastened 
taste  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

Since  her  marriage  to  Mr.  Antonio  de  Navarro,  June 
17,  1890,  this  gifted  actress  has  only  occasionally  ap- 
peared in  public,  and  then  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  of 
London.  Two  years  ago,  however,  she  came  to  New  York 
to  assist  in  staging  "  The  Garden  of  Allah,"  thus  de- 
lighting, once  more,  by  her  presence,  the  hearts  of  her 
many  American  friends. 

Lawrence  Barrett  and  John  McCullough  were  two 
other  gifted  players  contemporary  with  Booth;  I  am 
thus  coupling  them  for  the  reason  that  they  were  partners, 
for  several  years,  in  the  important  matter  of  managing 
the  California  Theatre  in  San  Francisco.  Moreover, 
there  were  several  points  of  resemblance  in  their  careers. 
Both  were  of  Irish  origin,  both  worked  their  way  up  from 
the  very  bottom,  and  both  succeeded,  by  dint  of  un- 
ceasing study  and  strenuous  effort,  in  attaining  high 
positions  on  the  American  stage. 

1  The  critics  insisted  that  "  confusion  "  must  needs  result  from  this 
doubling  and  that  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  only  actually  necessary 
changes  in  the  play  were  the  omission  of  four  lines  of  Perdita's  part  and 
the  introduction  of  a  harmless  dummy  for  about  three  minutes  before 
the  curtain  fell. 

346 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Barrett  was  born  at  Patterson,  New  Jersey,  April  4, 
1838,  and  passed  at  Detroit,  Michigan,  a  cramped  and 
sordid  childhood.  He  managed  somehow,  while  still  only 
a  boy  and  very  meagrely  educated,  to  obtain  a  humble 
post  in  a  theatre  and  here  he  became  possessed  of  a 
single  but  very  precious  book,  Doctor  Johnson's  Dic- 
tionary. By  the  light  of  the  candle-ends,  which  had  been 
thrown  away  in  the  dressing-room  of  the  theatre,  he 
studi'ed  his  treasure  of  a  dictionary  at  odd  hows  and  so 
improved  himself  that  in  the  season  of  1853  he  was  cast 
for  a  small  part  in  "  The  French  Spy."  Acquitting  him- 
self creditably  of  this  he  was  given  opportunity  to  play 
other  minor  characters.  Then  he  obtained  an  engage- 
ment at  Pittsburg  and  for  two  years  acted  in  a  stock 
company  there,  supporting  various  visiting  stars, 
among  them  Julia  Dean  of  alluring  memory. 

New  York  first  knew  Barrett  in  1856;  very  soon  after 
this  he  supported  many  of  the  leading  players  of  the 
day.  Boston,  Philadelphia  and  Washington  then  en- 
joyed his  work  as  a  resident  actor  until  he  joined  Edwin 
Booth's  company  at  the  Winter  Garden  for  the  season 
of  1863-1864.  Three  years  later  he  made  his  first  pro- 
fessional visit  to  England.  Subsequently  for  some  time 
he  was  associated  with  John  McCullough  as  a  San 
Francisco  manager,  then,  in  1870,  he  made  the  success 
of  his  career  by  giving  us  the  best  Cassius  America  has 
ever  known. 

Barrett's  second  professional  visit  to  England  was 
made  in  1884,  when  he  acted  at  the  London  Lyceum  as 
Yorick  and  as  Cardinal  Richelieu.  Returning  to  Amer- 

347 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

ica,  he  became  Edwin  Booth's  manager  and  acting 
partner.  On  March  20,  1891,  he  died  suddenly  at  the 
old  Windsor  Hotel,  New  York,  and  was  buried  at  Co- 
hasset,  where  he  had  long  had  a  home,  "  buried  so  near 
the  ocean,"  says  William  Winter,  who  was  his  close 
friend,  "  that  its  waves  almost  break  over  his  grave, 
and  its  mournful  music  is  his  perpetual  dirge." 

In  the  library  of  this  Cohasset  home  Barrett  had 
passed  many  of  the  happiest  hours  of  his  life,  reading 
Roman  history  and  the  classics,  of  which  he  was  particu- 
larly fond,  and  chatting  with  his  beloved  friend,  Edwin 
Booth,  who  always  spent  part  of  the  summer  with  him, 
about  their  coming  seasons  or  their  plans  for  the  Play- 
ers' Club.  Many  of  my  readers  may  have  seen  a  charm- 
ing picture  of  these  two  great  actors  in  this  library,  Booth 
meditatively  smoking  a  long-stemmed  pipe,  while  Bar- 
rett busied  himself  writing  at  a  broad  desk  near  by.  In 
the  background  books  are  everywhere  —  the  Macaulay, 
De  Quincey,  Carlyle,  and  Walter  Scott,  that  Barrett  so 
dearly  loved.  And  the  Browning,  too,  whose  "  Blot 
in  the  Scutcheon  "  he  succeeded  in  making  so  convincing 
as  a  play,  that  the  English  poet  wrote  to  him:  "  Had 
Macready  been  a  Barrett,  I  should  have  been  a  drama- 
tist." The  last  year  of  Barrett's  life  he  was  in  communi- 
cation with  another  poet,  Lord  Tennyson,  who  was  re- 
writing "  Thomas  a  Becket  "  for  his  production.  Irving 
ultimately  produced  this  play,  as  is  well  remembered. 

Barrett's  last  appearance  on  the  stage  was  made  at 
the  Broadway  Theatre,  New  York,  as  De  Mauprat,  in 
"  Richelieu."  Booth  was  acting  the  Cardinal  and,  at 

348 


LAWRENCE    BARRETT 


JOHN   DREW,    THE    ELDER,    AS    SIR   ANDREW    AGUE-CHEEK 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  end  of  the  third  act,  while  lying  on  a  bed  simulating 
death,  he  was  horrified  to  hear  Barrett  whisper,  as  he 
bent  over  him:  "  I  cannot  go  on."  Real  death  was  now 
staring  the  younger  man  in  the  face.  Another  player 
had  to  take  Barrett's  place,  and  the  day  following  he 
passed  away. 

McCullough,  his  old  comrade,  had  already  been  dead 
six  years  —  after  retirement  for  two  years  because  of 
mental  collapse.  Born  near  Londonderry,  Ireland, 
November  14,  1832,  of  a  family  so  poor  that  this  son  could 
not  write  (though  he  could  read  a  little)  when  he  first 
came  to  America  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  John  McCullough, 
like  Barrett,  had  raised  himself  by  sheer  force  of  will- 
power to  educated  self-respect  and  to  a  position  of  au- 
thority on  the  American  stage.  The  first  play  he  ever 
saw  was  Shiel's  tragedy  of  the  "  Apostate  "  at  the  old 
Arch  Street  Theatre,  Philadelphia;  from  that  moment, 
he  was  unremitting  in  his  study  of  books  of  every  kind. 
One  of  the  works  that  he  read  was  "  Chambers  Encyclo- 
pedia of  English  Literature,"  a  volume  which  he  absorbed 
entire  in  a  month,  becoming  so  familiar  with  its  con- 
tents that  he  could  discourse  volubly,  years  afterwards, 
on  the  career  of  any  writer  therein  treated.  His  memory 
was  always  extraordinary.  To  it  he  owed  his  first  op- 
portunity to  play  a  good  part.  For  it  chanced  that,  while 
he  was  yet  a  youth  and  of  only  slight  stage  experience, 
Davenport,  who  had  been  cast  at  the  Howard  Athe- 
naeum for  the  role  of  Robert  Landry  in  the  "  Dead 
Heart,"  fell  ill,  and  his  place  had  to  be  supplied  at  short 
notice.  McCullough  was  told  at  noon  that  he  would  be 

349 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

expected  to  read  the  part  that  night.  He  took  the  lines 
home,  studied  them  all  that  afternoon  in  his  little  hall 
bedroom,  and  that  night  went  on  letter  perfect  in  one 
of  the  longest  parts  of  modern  romantic  drama. 

Forrest,  who  had  learned  of  McCullough's  perseverence 
and  promise,  early  extended  a  helping  hand  to  the  youth, 
and  for  many  seasons  McCullough  travelled  through 
the  country  playing  seconds  to  the  more  famous  trage- 
dian. Then,  following  Forrest's  advice,  he  stayed  for 
a  number  of  years  in  San  Francisco,  conducting  the  for- 
tunes of  the  California  Theatre.  Financial  difficulties 
compelled  him  to  abandon  this  enterprise,  however, 
about  1874  (Barrett  had  withdrawn  five  years  earlier), 
so  that  we  must  think  of  him  as  a  star  in  the  last  ten 
years  of  his  life.  In  1881  he  presented  "  Virginius  "  and 
"  Othello  "  with  great  success  at  the  Drury  Lane  Theatre, 
London,  but  soon  after  this  his  health  began  to  decline, 
and  his  last  appearance  on  any  stage  was  at  McVicker's 
Theatre,  Chicago,  September  29,  1884.  The  final 
scenes  of  his  life  were  unspeakably  sad. 

There  was  nothing  sad,  however,  about  the  man  when 
he  was  in  good  health.  He  was  very  fond  of  practical 
jokes  and  lost  no  opportunity  to  divert  himself  in  this 
way.  Winter  tells  a  story  about  a  sea  voyage  which  Mc- 
Cullough and  Forrest  once  made  together  during  which 
the  older  tragedian  was  acutely  seasick  most  of  the 
time.  Finally  there  came  a  calm  spell,  and  as  the  day 
was  Sunday  preparations  were  made  for  morning  worship. 
McCullough  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  clergyman  in- 
vited to  preach  that  day,  and  in  a  spirit  of  pleasantry 

350 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

he  told  Forrest  that  he  was  handsome,  a  very  good  reader, 
and  exceedingly  eloquent.  Forrest,  feeling  better,  and 
welcoming  a  diversion,  thought  he  would  go  down  to  the 
saloon  and  attend  the  service.  McCullough  mischie- 
vously saw  to  it  that  Forrest  should  have  a  seat  well  up 
front  and  quite  near  the  elderly  and  depressing  parson, 
who,  as  he  knew,  possessed  a  nasal  voice  particularly 
offensive  to  sensitive  ears.  As  the  discourse  proceeded, 
the  wind  began  to  blow  again.  Forrest  being  in  a  con- 
spicuous place,  could  not  well  withdraw,  and  suffered 
a  good  deal.  But  not  enough  to  please  McCullough,  it 
would  appear,  for  after  the  service  had  ended,  he  told 
the  minister  that  his  friend  had  greatly  enjoyed  his 
sermon  and  would  be  glad  to  see  him  in  his  cabin.  The 
clergyman,  flattered,  went  below  at  once,  only  to  be 
greeted  by  Forrest  with  a  volley  of  reproaches  and  the 
accusation  that  he  had  offended  the  Almighty  with  his 
confounded  blathering. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  sir,"  the  poor  minister  retorted  with 
what  dignity  he  could  muster,  "  to  hear  you  speak  thus 
of  my  Lord  and  Master." 

"  Your  Lord  and  Master!  "  roared  Forrest,  between 
groans  of  agony,  "  your  Lord  and  Master  never  went 
to  sea  but  once,  and  then  He  got  out  and  walked  ashore; 
I  wish  to  Heaven  I  could!  "  l 

Another  player  of  Irish  blood  who  has  added  to  the 
glories  of  the  American  stage  is  Ada  Rehan.  Miss  Rehan 
was  born  in  Limerick,  Ireland,  April  22,  1860,  but  she 

1  For  this  anecdote  I  am  indebted  to  William  Winter's  book,  "  Other 
Days,"  published  by  Moffat,  Yard  &  Co.  New  York. 

351 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

came  to  this  country  in  early  childhood  and  made  her 
stage  debut,  when  only  fourteen,  at  Newark,  New  Jersey. 
Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  Albany,  and  Louisville,  then 
in  turn  claimed  her  as  a  member  of  their  local  stock 
companies,  her  work  all  the  while  growing  in  brilliancy 
and  breadth  until  in  1879  Augustin  Daly  engaged  her  to 
play  important  roles  in  his  splendid  company  in  New 
York.  Here  she  stayed  until  Daly's  death  in  1899, 
playing  such  Shakesperian  characters  as  Rosalind, 
Katharine,  Viola,  Beatrice,  and  Portia  and  greatly  dis- 
tinguishing herself,  also,  in  the  part  of  Lady  Teazle  and 
in  other  leading  roles  of  the  famous  old  comedies.  How 
well  she  bore  off  Nance  Oldfield's  famous  part  of  Sylvia 
in  the  revival  of  Farquhar's  "  Recruiting  Officer," 
which  Daly  put  on  in  1885,  we  have  seen  in  an  earlier 
chapter.  Perhaps  Miss  Rehan's  most  rollicking  success 
was,  however,  obtained  as  Katharine  in  Shakespeare's 
"  Taming  of  the  Shrew."  She  and  Otis  Skinner  made 
a  very  great  triumph  in  this  piece  when  they  starred 
together  a  few  years  ago. 

It  was  through  Augustin  Daly  that  Clara  Morris,  also, 
came  into  her  own.  Miss  Morris  is  a  Canadian  by  birth, 
but  she  has  lived  most  of  her  life  in  this  country  and 
early  went  to  school  to  stock  companies  of  the  West. 
Thus  she  developed  into  an  actress  of  such  power  that 
Augustin  Daly  was  glad  to  engage  her,  in  1870,  for  parts 
in  his  famous  New  York  Company!  But  it  was  chance 
that  enabled  her  immediately  to  play  a  leading  part  for 
him.  "Man  and  Wife  "  was  on  the  eve  of  production 
when  Miss  Morris  joined  the  company,  and  the  lady 

352 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

who  usually  enacted  the  sentimental  heroine  had  de- 
cided that  she  did  not  like  her  part.  The  actress  who 
would  ordinarily  have  taken  her  place  had  gone  out  of 
town  for  a  holiday  without  leaving  her  address.  Thus 
Miss  Morris  received  a  character  which  enabled  her  to 
leap,  at  one  bound,  into  metropolitan  prominence. 

The  gift  of  tears,  which  was  soon  discovered  to  be  hers, 
proved  a  great  asset  in  the  kind  of  roles  which  now  fell 
to  her  lot.  She  possessed,  too,  decided  originality  in 
treatment  of  her  parts.  When  she  found  that  she  was  ttr 
play  Cora  in  "  L 'Article  47  "  she  made  a  study  of  in- 
sanity, both  in  asylums  and  medical  books,  with  the 
result  that  on  the  play's  first  night  (April  2,  1872)  she 
impersonated  the  madwoman  in  such  realistic  fashion 
that  the  blood  of  the  most  hardened  theatre-goers  turned 
cold  in  their  veins. 

When  Miss  Morris  played  the  heroine  of  "  Alixe  " 
at  the  old  Fifth  Avenue  Theatre,  January  21,  1873,  Will- 
iam Winter  declared  her  acting  "  one  of  the  best  pieces 
of  nature  interpreted  by  art  "  that  he  had  ever  seen.  In 
this  part,  as  she  played  it,  could  be  seen,  he  added,  that 
very  rare  thing  on  the  stage,  "  an  adequate  and  superb 
revelation  of  woman's  passionate  love." 

After  the  destruction  of  the  Fifth  Avenue  Theatre 
by  fire,  on  New  Year's  Eve,  1873,  Mr.  Daly's  Company 
played  for  a  time  at  the  Broadway  Theatre,  and  here 
Miss  Morris  made  a  powerful  impression  in  "  Madelein 
Morel,"  her  part  being  the  congenial  one  of  a  repentant 
Magdalen  who  has  turned  nun,  but  who,  at  a  thrilling 
crisis,  calls  down  the  wrath  of  Heaven  upon  her  false 

353 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

lover.  It  was  now  evident  that  the  company's  leading 
lady  had  grown  to  the  proportions  of  a  star,  and 
henceforth,  until  her  retirement  from  the  stage,  Miss 
Morris  was  seen  in  this  capacity  in  all  the  principal  the- 
atres of  America.  A  gifted  writer,  as  well  as  a  powerful 
actress,  she  has  been  able  to  shed  a  great  deal  of  light 
upon  real  life  behind  the  scenes  as  well  as  upon  the  tech- 
nique of  her  profession.  "  When  I  am  on  the  stage," 
she  has  said,  "  there  are  three  separate  currents  of 
thought  in  my  mind;  one,  in  which  I  am  keenly  alive 
to  Clara  Morris,-  to  all  the  details  of  the  play,  to  the  other 
actors  and  how  they  act  and  to  the  audience;  another, 
concerned  with  the  play  and  the  character  I  represent; 
and  finally,  there  is  the  thought  that  really  gives  me 
stimulus  for  acting." 

To  Clara  Morris  in  this  country,  as  to  Ellen  Terry  in 
England,  poets  have  been  wont  to  write  verses.  We  may 
very  well  close  our  chapter  with  these  lines  of  Ed- 
mund Clarence  Stedman  which  have  been  addressed 
to  her: 

"  Touched  by  the  fervour  of  her  art, 
No  flaws  to-night  discover! 
Her  judge  shall  be  the  people's  heart, 
This  western  world  her  lover. 
The  secret  given  to  her  alone 
No  frigid  schoolman  taught  her:  — 
Once  more  returning,  dearer  grown, 
We  greet  thee,  Passion's  daughter!  " 


354 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  THEATRES  OF  NEW  YORK  AND  THE  DRAMA  OF  TO  -  DAY 

To  trace  the  history  of  all  the  New  York  theatres 
which  came  up  —  and  disappeared  again  —  in  the 
course  of  the  nineteenth  century  would  require  several 
volumes  the  size  of  this  one.1  Yet  some  account  should 
certainly  be  given  here  of  New  York's  gradual  develop- 
ment from  a  town  no  better,  theatrically,  than  two  or 
three  other  towns  of  the  country,  to  the  proud  position 
it  now  holds  as  the  acknowledged  Mecca  of  plays  and 
players  in  America.  So  only  can  we  understand  the 
promise  and  the  prospects  of  the  drama  of  to-day. 

For  thirty  years  the  John  Street  Theatre,2  of  which  we 
heard  much  in  an  early  chapter,  stood  without  any  im- 
portant rival.  Soon  after  it  closed  its  doors  —  on  Janu- 
ary 13,  1798  —  a  number  of  rather  ambitious  amusement 
enterprises  sprang  up  to  take  its  place.  At  the  head  of 
the  list  must  be  placed  the  Park  Theatre,  which  had  a 
continuous  and  very  interesting  history  from  the  day 
of  its  opening  —  January  29,  1798,  in  a  somewhat  un- 

1  See  J.  N.  Ireland's  "  History  of  the  Stage  in  New  York,"  and  T. 
Allston  Brown's  volumes  of  similar  title. 

2  The  John  Street  Theatre  opened  December  7, 1767,  with  the  comedy 
"  The  Beaux's  Stratagem." 

355 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

finished  condition,  to  present  a  performance  of  "As  You 
Like  It "  —  until  the  end  of  its  career,  a  whole  half 
century  later.  A  very  bare  and  ugly  building  was  this 
first  Park  Theatre,  with  its  pit  (occupied  exclusively  by 
men  and  boys)  equipped  with  board  benches  innocent  of 
cushions,  and  its  crudely  constructed  boxes  which  could 
be  entered  only  from  the  rear  and  through  a  locked  door 
carefully  guarded  by  the  box-keeper.  In  the  wide  space 
between  the  pit  and  the  boxes  gentlemen  were  wont  to 
promenade  between  the  acts.  In  the  second  tier  a  restau- 
rant was  to  be  found,  while  the  third  tier  —  set  apart 
here,  as  in  most  theatres  of  the  period,  for  the  dissolute 
of  both  sexes  —  was  accommodatingly  supplied  with  a 
bar.  Usually  the  house  doors  were  opened  by  half-past 
six>  the  curtain  being  rung  up  an  hour  later.  Almost 
always  two  pieces,  a  tragedy  and  a  cqniedy,  were  offered, 
but  sometimes  there  was  a  third  piece  with  a  comic  song 
or  a  pas  seul  tucked  in  between  the  different  parts  of  the 
program.  Two  thousand  people  could  be  seated  in  this 
first  Park  Theatre,  and  the  house,  for  all  its  bareness, 
cost  a  very  pretty  penny  —  one  hundred  and  thirty 
thousand  dollars.  It  burned  down  in  1820. 

Concerning  the  playhouse  of  the  same  name  which  re- 
placed the  first  Park  Theatre  I  cannot  do  better  than  to 
quote  from  the  chatty  volume  of  "  Recollections,  "  which 
bears  upon  its  title-page  the  name  of  Joe  Cowell,  come- 
dian. Cowell  came  to  America  to  join  the  group  of 
players  then  (1821)  connected  with  this  establishment, 
and,  by  way  of  getting  acquainted  with  the  house,  viewed 
it  first  from  the  audience's  side. 

356 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  Phillips,  the  singer,  was  the  '  star  '  that  night  and 
the  performance  was  '  Lionel  and  Clarissa.7  The  opera 
had  not  commenced  but  I  took  a  seat  with  about  twenty 
others  in  the  second  tier.  The  house  was  excessively 
dark;  oil,  of  course,  then  was  used  in  common  brass 
Liverpool  lamps,  ten  or  twelve  of  which  were  placed  in  a 
large  sheet-iron  hoop,  painted  green,  hanging  from  the 
ceiling  in  the  centre,  and  one,  half  the  size,  on  each  side 
of  the  stage.  The  fronts  of  the  boxes  were  decorated,  if 
it  could"  be  so  called,  with  one  continuous  American 
ensign,  a  splendid  subject,  and  very  difficult  to  handle 
properly,  but  this  was  designed  in  the  taste  of  an  up- 
holsterer and  executed  without  any  taste  at  all;  the 
seats  were  covered  with  green  baize  and  the  backs  of 
the  boxes  with  whitewash,  and  the  iron  columns  which 
supported  them  covered  with  burnished  gold! 

"  The  audience  came  evidently  to  see  the  play  and  be 
pleased,  if  they  possibly  could,  with  everything;  the 
men  generally  wore  their  hats;  at  all  events  they  con- 
sulted only  their  own  opinion  and  comfort  in  the  mat- 
ter; and  the  ladies,  I  observed,  very  sensibly,  all  came 
in  bonnets,  but  usually  dispossessed  themselves  of  them, 
and  tied  them  in  large  bunches  high  up  to  the  gold 
columns;  and  as  there  is  nothing  a  woman  can  touch  that 
she  does  riot  instinctively  adorn,  the  varied  colours  of  the 
ribands  and  materials  of  which  they  were  made,  were  in 
my  opinion  a  va'st  improvement  to  the  unfurnished  ap- 
pearance of  the  house.  Phillips  —  as  Lionel  ~  and  Mrs. 
Holman  as  Clarissa,  shared  equally  the  approbation  of 
the  audience:  the  current  of  whose  simple  unsophisti- 
cated taste  had  not  been  turned  awry  by  fashion,  obli- 
ging them  to  profess  an  admiration  of  the  enormities  of  the 
German  and  Italian  school,  which  in  these  days  of  hum- 
bug and  refinement  they  alone  pretend  to  listen  to."  1 

1  "  Thirty  Years  Passed  Among  the  Players." 
357 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

just  before  the  first  visit  to  America  (in  1822)  of 
Charles  Mathews  the  elder,  Cowell,  who  seems  to  have 
been  a  many-sided  genius,  undertook  the  re-decoration 
of  the  Park.  Glass  chandeliers  were  then  purchased  to 
supply  the  place  of  the  iron  hoops;  the  proscenium  was 
arched  and  raised,  and  the  whole  house  dressed  in  gray 
and  gold.  Thus,  when  Mathews  made  his  first  bow  to 
the  American  public,  he  found  himself  in  a  really  attract- 
ive theatre  with  plenty  of  "  fashionables."  The  pro- 
prietors at  this  time  were  John  K.  Beekman  and  John 
Jacob  As  tor,  and  that  "  all  society  "  was  glad  to  patron- 
ize their  establishment  is  clear  from  the  water-colour 
drawing  made  by  John  Searle  for  William  Bayard,  Esq., 
and  showing  "  among  those  present  "  that  night,  repre- 
sentatives of  the  most  aristocratic  New  York  families. 
While  the  Park  was  thus  growing  in  the  favour  of  the 
fashionable,  other  houses,  also,  were  coming  to  the 
front.  Some  of  these,  though  quite  humble  in  design 
and  seasonal  in  character,  soon  attained  great  success, 
thus  demonstrating  that  amusement  was  now  in  very 
definite  demand  in  New  York. 

Joseph  Coree,  who  had  been  a  cook  to  Major  Carew, 
inaugurated  a  series  of  dramatic  entertainments  in  his 
Mount  Vernon  Gardens,  on  the  Leonard  Street  corner 
of  Broadway,  and  here,  in  summer,  members  of  the 
Park  Theatre  Company  were  wont  to  play  while  their 
own  house  was  closed.  The  Hodgkinsons  and  Mrs. 
Susanna  Rowson,  author  of  "  Charlotte  Temple,"  were 
among  the  artists  who  here  performed  during  the  heated 
months.  Another  summer  theatre  was  that  established 

358 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

in  1795  by  Ricketts,  a  skilful  equestrian.  A  year  or  two 
later  this  enterprise  came  under  the  management  of 
Wignell  and  Reinagle,  who  named  it  the  Greenwich 
Street  Summer  Theatre;  here  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Whitlock 
(the  lady  a  sister  of  Mrs.  Siddons),  John  Bernard, 
author  of  that  entertaining  volume,  "  Retrospections 
of  America,"  Thomas  A.  Cooper,  and  the  eccentric 
Fennell  made  their  debut.  The  most  famous,  however, 
of  all  the  players  ever  launched  from  Greenwich  Street 
was  the  much-married  Mrs.  Merry,  who,  whether  listed 
as  Miss  Brunton,  Mrs.  Merry,  Mrs.  Wignell,  or  Mrs. 
William  Warren,  was  always  received  with  enthusiasm 
by  New  York  audiences.  The  Greenwich  Street  Theatre 
had  a  long  and  very  successful  career,  especially  com- 
mending itself  to  the  play-going  public  during  the  time 
(1843)  when  Henry  P.  Grattan,  one  of  the  original  con- 
tributors to  London's  "  Punch,"  served  as  its  manager. 
Owing  to  the  fact  that  the  Park  Theatre  burned  down 
-  as  has  been  said  —  in  1820,  the  great  glory  of  having 
been  the  scene  of  Edmund  Kean's  New  York  debut 
in  November  of  that  year  belongs  to  the  Anthony  Street 
Theatre,  which  had  been  opened,  April  18,  1814,  near 
Broadway,  on  the  thoroughfare  later  known  as  Worth 
Street.  At  this  theatre  Mrs.  Alsop,  a  daughter  of  the 
celebrated  Mrs.  Jordan,  made  her  American  debut. 
The  Grove  Theatre,  on  Bedlow  Street  (opened  March, 
1804),  the  Vauxhall  Gardens,  near  the  site  of  the  Cooper 
Union  (opened  1806),  the  new  Olympic  Theatre  on 
Broadway,  at  the  corner  of  White  Street  (opened  in 
1812),  and  the  City  Theatre  on  Warren  Street  (opened 

359 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

in  1822),  were  other  early  New  York  theatres  of  more 
or  less  interest.  Castle  Garden,  too,  was  occasionally 
used  as  a  theatre  for  many  years  after  the  war  of  I8I2.1 
From  the  early  twenties  dates,  also,  the  Chatham 
Garden  Theatre,  of  whose  rise  Joe  Cowell  gives  the 
following  entertaining  sketch: 

"A  Frenchman,  by  the  name  of  Barriere,  had  fitted 
up  a  small  garden  at  the  back  of  a  confectioner's  shop 
in  Chatham  Street,  with  two  or  three  dozen  transparent 
lamps,  and 

'  Seats  beneath  the  shade, 
For  talking  age  and  whispering  lovers  made.' 

and,  by  selling  '  sweets  to  the  sweet '  at  a  shilling  a 
head,  had  made  a  great  deal  of  money;  which,  to  rap- 
idly increase,  he  raised  a  platform,  called  it  an  or- 
chestra, covered  it  with  canvas,  engaged  a  French 
horn,  clarionet,  fiddle  and  a  chorus  singer  from  the 
Park,  with  the  gentle  name  of  Lamb,  who  bleated  a  song 
or  two,  and  with  this  combination  of  talent  attracted 
crowds  every  night,  to  the  great  injury  '  in  the  spring- 
time of  the  year  '  of  the  theatre.  Price  [manager  of  the 
Park  Theatre]  put  in  force  some  fire-proof  law,  pro- 
hibiting all  canvas  or  skin-deep  establishments  within 
a  certain  limit,  and  the  old  Frenchman  was  obliged  to 
strike  his  tent;  but  with  the  ice-cream  profits  he  pur- 
chased brick  and  mortar  and  built  the  Chatham  The- 
atre." 2 

1  Here  on  September  6,  1852,  was  held  a  "  great  dramatic  festival  " 
in  commemoration  of  the  supposed  first  introduction  of  the  drama  into 
America  one  hundred  years  before.    In  accordance  with  the  dates  and 
data  of  William  Dunlap  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice  "  and  Garrick's 
"  Lethe  "  were  then  piously  performed. 

2  "  Thirty  Years  Passed  Among  the  Players." 

360 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

About  this  time,  also,  the  Bowery  was  started.  Cowell 
tells  with  similar  sprightliness  of  its  beginnings.  "  While 
this  Chatham  Theatre  project  was  in  embryo,  Mrs. 
Baldwin,  a  sister  to  Mrs.  Barnes,  turned  the  brains  of 
some  half-dozen  would-be-acting  young  men  and  women, 
and  a  private  house  in  Warren  Street  into  a  theatre 
and  opened  a  show  there.  Tom  Hilson  had  been  se- 
duced away  from  the  Park,  where  he  had  been  a  favour- 
ite in  my  line  of  business,  by  Charles  Gilfert,  a  German 
comedian  who  had  married  Miss  Holman,  and  was,  in 
consequence,  manager  of  the  Charleston,  South  Caro- 
lina, theatre.  On  Hilson's  necessary  return  to  the 
North  in  the  summer,  being  shut  out  by  me  from  the 
Park,  he  accepted  a  star  engagement  at  this  old  lady's 
concern,  and  drew  crowded  houses.  Gilfert,  who  was  a 
very  enterprising  talented  man,  with  some  powerful 
friends,  already  began  to  talk  of  a  theatre  in  the  Bow- 
ery." 

How  this  theatre  was  opened,  in  the  fall  of  1826,  with 
Forrest  as  chief  drawing-card,  we  have  already  learned 
in  our  sketch  of  that  artist. 

It  was  Gilfert  of  the  Bowery  who  was  responsible  for 
the  introduction  of  French  dancing  into  this  country. 
When  Mile.  Hutin,  who  first  distinguished  herself  in 
this  way,  bounded  on  to  the  Bowery  stage,  February  7, 
1827,  her  'symmetrical  proportions  liberally  displayed 
by  the  force  of  a  bewildering  piroutte,  every  lady  in  the 
lower  tier  of  boxes  immediately  left  the  theatre,  while 
the  whole  audience  crimsoned  with  shame.  Joe  Cowell, 
in  the  course  of  his  description  of  this  "  novelty,"  has  a 

361 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

realistic  paragraph  about  the  "  poor  half -dressed  super- 
numerary women,  now  made  for  the  first  time  in  their 
lives  to  stand  upon  one  leg,  who  tottered  bashfully  and 
looked  as  foolish  and  about  as  graceful  as  a  plucked 
goose  in  the  same  position."  For  a  time  after  this,  public 
opinion  demanded  that  our  dancing  visitors  should  wear 
Turkish  trousers. 

In  1828  the  Bowery  burned  down,  but  it  was  rebuilt 
in  the  unprecedented  space  of  sixty  days  and  was 
opened  with  increased  magnificence.  And  with  a  press 
agent,  the  first  of  his  clan  in  America!  Cowell  writes: 

"  Agents  had  been  dispatched  to  Europe  for  talent  of 
every  description,  and  the  first  good  theatrical  orchestra 
ever  brought  to  America,  Gilfert  could  boast  of  having 
congregated.  William  Chapman,  an  excellent  comedian, 
was  engaged,  and  George  Holland,  inimitable  in  the 
small  list  of  characters  he  undertook,  proved  a  deserved 
attraction,  while  Forrest,  if  possible,  increased  in  public 
estimation.  A  very  capable  man,  by  the  name  of 
Harby,  was  employed  at  a  handsome  salary,  to  '  write 
up  '  the  merits  of  the  theatre,  and  such  members  of  the 
company  as  the  interest  of  the  management  desired  to 
be  advanced.  This,  being  the  first  introduction  of  the 
system  of  forestalling,  or  rather,  directing  public  opin- 
ion, had  a  powerful  effect;  and  the  avidity  with  which  a 
large  class  of  persons  in  all  countries,  swallow,  and 
implicitly  believe  what  they  read  in  a  newspaper,  is 
truly  and  quaintly  enough  described  by  Mopsa  in  the 
Winter's  Tale:  '  I  love  a  ballad  in  print  a-life  for  then 
we  are  sure  they  are  true.'  All  these  circumstances 
combined  and  the  theatrical  population  of  New  York 
not  being  then  equal  to  the  support  of  more  than  one 

362 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

establishment  of  the  kind,  the  tide  of  opinion  sat  full 
in  favour  of  the  Bowery  while  the  Park  was  trembling 
on  the  brink  of  ruin." 

Under  the  management  of  Thomas  S.  Hamblin,  who 
assumed  control  in  the  autumn  of  1830,  this  press-agent 
at  the  Bowery  had  plenty  of  material  from  which  to  spin 
his  yarns.  For  it  was  here  that  Josie  Clifton,  the  first 
native  American  actress  to  play  in  London,  appeared; 
here  that  Priscilla  Cooper  —  who,  by  her  marriage  to 
President  Tyler's  son,  Robert,  subsequently  became 
mistress  of  the  White  House  —  made  her  debut  in  1834; 
and  here,  in  1836,  that  Charlotte  Cushman  made  her 
first  New  York  appearance  as  Lady  Macbeth. 

Innumerable  names  of  romantic  association  are  also 
connected  with  the  drama  at  the  Bowery.  For,  though 
it  burned  down  many  times  —  before  it  was  handed 
over,  in  1879,  to  German  playgoers  and  re-christened  the 
Thalia  —  it  ever  pursued  the  tenor  of  its  way  as  a 
people's  theatre,  and  melodrama  was  not  infrequently 
to  be  found  in  the  private  life  of  its  cherished  players  as 
well  as  on  its  stage.  This  was  especially  true  in  the  case 
of  Adah  Isaacs  Menken,  long  a  favourite  here,  no  less 
a  person  than  the  poet  Swinburne  being  associated  with 
her  career. 

Within  two  years  of  the  erection  of  the  first  Bowery 
Theatre  there  was  built  on  Broadway,  near  Prince 
Street,  an  amusement  place  called  originally  the  Sans 
Souci  but  much  more  widely  known  then  and  now  as 
Niblo's.  William  Niblo's  amusement  enterprise  had 
originally  been  limited  to  a  Summer  Garden,  but  when 

363 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  Bowery  burned  down,  he  shrewdly  built  an  at- 
tractive little  theatre  in  his  garden,  and  set  up  a  coach 
service  to  bring  his  patrons  from  the  Astor  House  to  the 
play.  Hevre  the  Ravels  performed  in  1837  an(l  William 
E.  Burton  in  1839.  Forrest,  Charles  Kean,  E.  L.  Daven- 
port, Mrs.  Mowatt,  John  Brougham,  George  Holland, 
and  the  Falstaff  of  the  elder  Hackett  were  also  seen  at 
this  first  Niblo's  Theatre  before  it  burned  down  in  1848. 
Later,  Charlotte  Cushman,  Dion  Boucicault,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Barney  Williams,  Mrs.  John  Wood,  Maggie 
Mitchell,  Margaret  Mather,  and  Lydia  Thompson  here 
invited  the  plaudits  of  New  York  theatre-goers.  "  The 
Black  Crook,"  a  musical  melange  worth  noting  as  the 
first  great  success  in  the  "  leg  movement  "  school  of 
American  drama,  here  burst  upon  a  gaping  public,  in 
1866. 

Another  old-time  playhouse  of  historical  —  as  well  as 
theatrical  —  interest  was  the  Richmond  Hill,  first 
opened  in  November,  1831.  Mrs.  Duff's  very  success- 
ful appearance  at  this  house  (built  on  ground  which  had 
been  sold  by  Aaron  Burr  to  John  Jacob  Astor)  has  been 
described  in  a  previous  chapter.  The  house  was  taken 
down  in  1849,  having  been  called  Miss  Nelson's  Theatre 
(in  1836),  Mrs.  Hamblin's  (in  1837),  the  Tiroli  Gardens 
(in  1840),  the  Greenwich  Theatre  (in  1840),  and  the 
New  York  Opera  House  (in  1849). 

For  the  opening  of  the  National  Theatre,  on  January 
29,  1836,  Junius  Brutus  Booth  appeared  with  his  "  Mer- 
chant'of  Venice."  Like  several  other  New  York  theatres 
of  the  day,  the  National  was  repeatedly  burned  down 

364 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

and  rebuilt;  just  before  the  fire  of  1839,  Charles  Kean 
played  "  Hamlet "  here.  This  house  should  not  be 
confused,  however,  with  the  New  National  (formerly 
the  Chatham  Square)  in  which  Joseph  Jefferson  ap- 
peared in  1849  and  where  Jenny  Lind  sang  upon  her 
third  visit  to  New  York,  in  June,  1851.  On  her  first 
visit  she  broke  her  contract  with  P.  T.  Barnum  rather 
than  sing  in  this  very  place;  the  theatre  had  then  just 
been  used  as  a  circus  and  seems  to  have  needed  purging. 
At  any  rate  Miss  Lind,  who  disliked  the  odour  of  horses, 
flatly  refused  to  sing  in  the  "  stable/'  as  she  called  it. 

The  first  formidable  rival  to  the  Park  Theatre,  among 
these  various  amusement  enterprises  was,  however,  the 
second  Broadway  Theatre,  situated  between  Pearl  and 
Anthony  (afterwards  Worth)  Streets  and  opened  in 
September,  1847,  with  "  The  School  for  Scandal." 
George  Barrett  was  the  stage  manager  of  this  large  and 
elegant  edifice,  and  on  the  opening  night  Lester  Wallack 
made  his  first  appearance  in  the  United  States  in  the 
farce  "  Used  Up."  The  bills  of  the  evening  give  Wai- 
lack's  name  as  John  Wallack  Lester,  which  he  had  as- 
sumed on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic  in  order  that  he 
might  not  seem  to  trade  on  the  renown  of  that  very 
gifted  player,  James  William  Wallack  (1795-1864),  who 
was  his  father. 1  Four  years  before  his  New  York  debut, 
Lester  Wallack  had  been  pronounced  "  the  coming  young 
man  "  by  Charlotte  Cushman,  who  had  been  led  to  this 

1  Thackeray  once  declared  that  the  elder  Wallack's  Shylock  was  the 
first  rendering  of  the  part  which  he  had  ever  seen  that  gave  him  any 
idea  what  an  ill-used  man  this  Jew  was. 

365 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

prophecy  by  his  superb  work  as  Mercutio  when  she  had 
been  playing  Romeo  in  London  to  her  sister's  Juliet. 
To  the  youth  himself  she  said  in  her  straightforward 
way:  "  There  is  a  great  future  before  you  if  you  take 
care  and  do  not  let  your  vanity  run  away  with  you." 
For  young  Wallack  was  very  good-looking,  even  as  his 
father  —  who  shared  with  Byron  the  distinction  of  being 
one  of  the  handsomest  men  in  England  -—  had  been 
before  him. 

At  the  Chatham  Square  Theatre  in  1848  young  Wal- 
lack played  Edmund  Dantes  in  "  Monte  Cristo,"  l  and 
he  distinguished  himself,  a  year  later,  by  acting  D'Ar- 
tagan  in  some  versions  which  he  had  made  of  "  The 
Three  Guardsmen."  During  the  next  two  years  he  was 
connected  with  Burton's  Chambers  Street  Theatre,  after 
which,  for  nearly  ten  years,  he  was  closely  associated 
as  actor  and  manager  with  the  theatre  on  Broome  Street, 
which  his  father  controlled  and  which  had  formerly 
been  known  as  Brougham's  Lyceum.  This  house 
derived  its  name  from  the  John  Brougham  who,  in  1842, 
saw  "  The  School  for  Scandal  "  given  at  the  Park  to  an 
audience  which  numbered  not  more  than  fifteen  all  told. 
"  But  to  make  up  for  the  scarcity  of  spectators," 
Brougham  declared,  "  there  was  an  inordinate  number 
of  rats,  so  admirably  domesticated  that  they  sat  on  the 
ledge  of  the  boxes  and  looked  you  squarely  in  the  face 
without  moving  a  muscle." 


1  This  was  one  of  the  first  plays  in  dramatic  history  that  rivalled 
"  Richard  III  "  and  "  London  Assurance  "  by  a  run  of  one  hundred 
nights. 

366 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

John  Brougham  must  never  be  taken  quite  literally; 
yet  that  his  wit  was  often  not  wide  of  the  mark  is  clear 
from  his  observation  to  William  Winter  concerning 
Dion  Boucicault,  who  tried  to  cheat  him  out  of  his  rights 
in  "  London  Assurance."  "  If  Dion  had  to  play  a  sec- 
ond-old-man,"  testified  this  fellow-Irishman,  "  he  would 
scalp  his  grandfather  for  the  wig."  After  which,  though 
it  may  take  us  rather  too  far  ahead  of  our  story,  let  us 
consider  the  career  of  witty  John  Brougham  and  the 
large  part  he  played  in  the  development  of  the  New 
York  theatres. 

Brougham  was  born  in  Dublin  in  1810  and  died  in 
New  York  in  1880.  Trinity  College  and  St.  Peter's 
Hospital  of  his  native  city  supplied  him  with  his  formal 
education;  for  it  was  intended  that  he  should  be  a  sur- 
geon. But,  owing  to  the  death  of  a  relative,  of  whom  he 
entertained  "  expectations,"  he  decided  to  go  on  the 
stage;  and  there  he  stayed  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  In 
1842  he  came  to  America,  where  he  remained  until 
1860.  Then,  after  five  years  in  London,  he  came  to  us 
again  and  never  afterwards  quitted  the  country.  Ma- 
dame Vestris  and  her  husband,  Charles  Mathews,  he 
knew  very  well,  and  it  was  for  Burton,  then  acting  in 
London,  that  he  wrote  his  first  play  in  1831. 

Brougham's  American  career  began  at  the  Park  as 
O'Callaghan  in  "  His  Last  Legs;  "  a  little  later  he  was 
employed  in  Burton's  company;  then  he  managed 
Niblo's  Garden;  and  then  —  on  December  23,  1850- 
he  opened  Brougham's  Lyceum  in  Broadway,  near  the 
southwest  corner  of  Broome  Street.  From  the  Lyceum 

367 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

-which  afterwards  became  Wallack's  Theatre,  and 
so  remained  until  1860  —  he  went  to  the  Bowery,  for 
which  house  he  produced  a  large  number  of  "  Bowery  " 
dramas.  For  W.  E.  Burton  he  made  a  dramatization 
of  "  Dombey  and  Son  "  which  proved  very  successful, 
and  later,  in  August,  1867,  he  appeared  at  Wallack's 
Theatre  in  the  drama  "  Little  Nell  and  the  Marchion- 
ess," which  he  had  written  for  the  lady  known  as  Lotta. 
For  Barney  Williams,  who  had  renamed  Wallack's  old 
house  the  Broadway  Theatre,  he  wrote  a  play  called 
"  The  Emerald  Ring,"  and,  on  January  25,  1869,  he 
opened  Brougham's  Theatre  1  on  the  site  of  what  was 
afterwards  the  Madison  Square,  playing  three  pieces  of 
his  own,  one  called  "  Better  Late  than  Never;  "  another 
known  as  "  The  Dramatic  Review  for  1868,"  and  a  third 
properly  labelled  "  Irish  Stew."  His  last  appearance 
on  the  stage  was  made  at  Booth's  Theatre,  New  York, 
October  25,  1879,  as  Felix  O'Reilly,  the  detective,  in 
Boucicault's  play,  "  Rescued." 

In  1845,  at  the  Park  Theatre,  Mrs.  Anna  Cora  Mow- 
att's  "  Fashion  "  was  produced.  But  though  this  piece 
was  of  interest  as  one  of  the  first  American  "  society  " 
dramas,  and  though  Edgar  Allan  Poe,  who  was  then 
dramatic  critic  for  the  Broadway  Journal,  regarded  it 
of  such  importance  that  he  went  to  see  it  several  nights 
in  succession  —  in  order  to  determine  the  full  extent 
of  its  merits  and  demerits  —  the  play  did  not  by  any 


1  That  well-known  character,  James  Fiske,  Jr.,  took  this  theatre  out 
of  Brougham's  hands;  so  ended  the  clever  Irishman's  last  effort  in 
management. 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

means  enjoy  a  "  run,"  because  people  were  not  yet 
ready  to  accept  the  life  and  tendencies  of  New  York 
as  proper  stuff  from  which  to  construct  drama. 

The  Winter  Garden  should  next  be  mentioned  among 
the  important  New  York  theatres.  Its  site  had  pre- 
viously been  occupied  by  Tripler  Hall,  and  here,  in  a 
house  then  just  renamed  the  Metropolitan,  Rachel, 
on  September  3,  1855,  made  her  first  appearance  in 
America  as  Camille  in  "  Les  Horaces."  At  the  termina- 
tion of  Rachel's  engagement,  Laura  Keene,  who  had 
been  a  member  of  the  company  at  Wallack's,  leased  this 
theatre,  had  it  remodelled,  and  reopened  it  as  Laura 
Keene's  Varieties.  As  Burton's  New  Theatre  —  in 
which  Edwin  Booth  among  others  performed  —  and 
as  the  Winter  Garden  or  Conservatory  of  Arts,  this 
house  was  the  background  of  much  that  is  of  great  in- 
terest. Here  Dion  Boucicault  produced  "  The  Octo- 
roon," with  his  wife,  Agnes  Robertson,  as  Zoe  (Decem- 
ber 5,  1859),  and  here,  on  an  eventful  night  in  1864, 
the  three  Booth  brothers,  Edwin,  John  Wilkes,  and 
Junius  Brutus,  acted  together  in  "  Julius  Caesar."  Of 
Edwin  Booth's  great  artistic  success  here  in  his  Shake- 
speare revivals  we  have  heard  in  a  previous  chapter. 
The  house  was  destroyed  by  fire,  March  23,  1867. 

The  Academy  of  Music,  built  in  1854,  on  Fourteenth 
Street  and  Irving  Place,  though  primarily  intended  for 
operatic  performances,  entertained  the  drama  also. 
Here  Salvini  and  his  rival,  Rossi,  were  heard,  and  here, 
on  a  single  occasion,  Rachel  appeared  —  though  she 
considered  it  too  large  for  her  voice.  Here,  also,  the 

369 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

11  Old  Homestead  "  and  the  "  Black  Crook  "  were  re- 
peatedly seen. 

Two  years  after  the  Academy  of  Music  was  erected, 
Laura  Keene's  Theatre  was  built  for  her  on  Broadway, 
near  Houston  Street.  The  opening  bill  was  "  As  You 
Like  It,"  Laura  Keene  herself  playing  Rosalind.  For 
eight  years  this  very  able  woman  was  the  controlling 
factor  at  this  house.  Tom  Taylor's  "  Our  American 
Cousin  "  was  first  produced  here  and  made  a  very  great 
success  by  reason  of  the  skill  with  which  E.  A.  Sothern 
built  up  the  part  of  Lord  Dundreary.  Jefferson  has 
declared  that  the  first  night  of  this  play  —  in  which  he 
acted  Asa  Trenchard  —  was  the  turning-point  in  three 
careers,  his  own,  Miss  Keene's  and  Sothern's. 

Miss  Keene's  success  made  possible,  too,  the  great 
success  of  Dion  Boucicault,  who  supplied  her  with  plays 
in  something  the  same  facile  fashion  with  which  Clyde 
Fitch  later  met  the  demands  of  Charles  Frohman. 
"  The  Colleen  Bawn  "  was  turned  out  on  a  rush  order 
from  Miss  Keene  to  take  the  place  of  "  Vanity  Fair," 
which  had  failed.  Upon  leaving  the  theatre,  the  drama- 
tist was  quite  without  inspiration  concerning  a  new 
play,  but,  chancing  to  buy  at  a  bookstore  on  the  way 
home  a  novel  by  Gerald  Griffin,  called  "  The  Collegians," 
he  read  it  that  night  from  cover  to  cover  and,  in  the 
morning,  wrote  his  manager: 

"  My  dear  Laura:  I  have  it!  I  send  you  seven  steel 
engravings  of  scenes  around  Killarney.  Get  your  scene- 
painter  to  work  on  them  at  once.  I  also  send  a  book  of 
Irish  Melodies,  with  those  marked  I  desire  Baker  to 

370 


DION    BOUCICAULT   AS    CON,    IN    "  THE    SHAUGHRAUN 


JAMES    W.    WALLACK 

See  page  365 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

score  for  the  orchestra.  I  shall  read  act  one  of  my  new 
Irish  play  on  Friday;  we  rehearse  that  while  I  am 
writing  the  second,  which  will  be  ready  on  Monday; 
and  we  rehearse  the  second  while  I  am  doing  the  third. 
We  can  get  the  play  out  within  a  fortnight. 

"  Yours, 

"D.  B."1 

Such  was  the  speed  with  which  "  The  Colleen  Bawn  " 
was  prepared  for  its  production  under  Laura  Keene, 
March  29,  1860.  It  was,  in  many  ways,  typical  of  the 
method  used  by  Boucicault  in  writing,  adapting,  and 
translating  the  four  hundred  plays  which  came  from 
his  pen  in  the  course  of  his  almost  fifty  years  of  labour 
as  a  dramatist.2  The  play  with  which  Boucicault  is 
most  intimately  associated  is  "  The  Shaughraun," 
which  was  first  produced  at  Wallack's  Theatre,  No- 
vember 14,  1874,  the  playwright  himself  acting  Con. 

We  have  now  reached  the  period  of  the  uptown  trend 
in  the  building  of  theatres,  a  movement  with  which  the 
Wallacks  had  much  to  do.  Having  abandoned  the 
playhouse  on  Broadway  near  Broome  Street,  which  had 
formerly  been  Brougham's  Lyceum,  they  built,  in  1861, 
the  second  Wallack's  Theatre  at  Broadway  and  Thir- 
teenth Street;  here  for  twenty  years  the  best  old  and 
modern  English  comedies  were  presented.  The  star 

1  Quoted  in  Montrose  Moses*  "  Actor  Families  of  America." 

2  Dion  Boucicault,  dramatist  and  actor,  was  born  at  Dublin,  Decem- 
ber 26,  1822,  was  educated  at  University  College,  London,  and  died  in 
New  York,  September  18,  1890.    "  Arrah-na-Pogue  "  (1864),  "  Flying 
Scud  "  (1866),  "  Formosa  "  (1869),  and  "  The  Jilt  "  (1886)  were,  with 
"  London  Assurance  "  —  in  which  he  collaborated  with  John  Brougham 
—  among  the  best  known  of  his  plays,  besides  those  to  which  reference 
has  already  been  made  in  this  book. 

371 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

of  this  theatre  was  handsome  Lester  Wallack,  and  in  his 
company,  from  time  to  time,  were  John  Gilbert,  John 
Brougham,  Henry  J.  Montague,  Dion  Boucicault,  the 
second  Charles  Mathews  (who  was  willing  temporarily 
to  cease  being  a  "  star  "  for  the  sake  of  playing  at  Wai- 
lack's),  Fanny  Morant,  Madame  Ponisi,  and  Rose 
Coghlan  —  to  mention  only  a  few  of  the  most  familiar 
names.  At  Wallack's  Theatre  on  Broadway  and  Thir- 
tieth Street,  built  under  the  auspices  of  Lester  Wallack 
and  opened  January  4,  1882,  with  the  "  School  for  Scan- 
dal/' the  splendid  tract!  tions  of  the  earlier  theatre  were 
for  a  time  perpetuated.  Then  the  managerial  genius 
of  Augustin  Daly  began  to  assert  itself  in  a  rival  house, 
and  this,  added  to  the  fact  that  Wallack's  had  definitely 
lowered  its  artistic  standards,  brought  it  about  that 
"  what  is  pretentiously  called  the  leading  American 
theatre  is  not  an  American  theatre  at  all  ...  but  a 
cheap  copy  of  an  English  theatre  from  the  stage  of 
which  American  writers  and  plays  are  rigorously  ex- 
cluded." 1 

Augustin  Daly,  who  did  more  than  any  other  Ameri- 
can of  his  generation  to  maintain  the  dignity  of  the 
stage  and  to  make  its  possibilities  and  purposes  mani- 
fest, first  emerged  from  journalism  in  1864,  when  his 
"  Lorlie's  Wedding/'  an  adaptation  from  the  German, 
was  produced  in  the  Winter  Garden  Theatre.  Other 
translations  and  adaptations  marked  these  juvenile 
days,  but  his  individual  powers  as  a  playwright  were  first 
revealed  in  the  strong  and  ingenious  melodrama  "  Under 
1  L.  Clarke  Davis  in  Lippincott's  Magazine  for  October,  1883. 
372 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  Gaslight,"  notable  for  its  stage-craft  and  its  vivid 
character-drawing.  From  some  points  of  view  this 
play  was  pretty  poor  stuff,  but  it  helped  its  writer  to 
find  himself,  and  when  the  Fifth  Avenue  Theatre  fell 
into  his  hands  in  1869,  he  was  ready  to  regale  New- York 
with  such  a  balanced  menu  of  classic  and  poetic  comedy, 
romance  and  French  social  drama,  as  could  be  enjoyed 
at  no  other  playhouse  in  the  city.  Every  detail  of  a 
production  —  the  acting,  the  setting,  the  music,  the 
costumes,  and  the  lighting  —  were  under  Mr.  Daly's 
personal  direction,  and  it  thus  came  about  that  his 
theatre,  by  day  as  well  as  by  night,  was  the  most  won- 
derful school  of  dramatic  art  in  the  country.  George 
Clarke,  who  was  long  with  Daly,  once  confided  to  a 
friend:  "  I  could  not  keep  away  from  him.  I  was  able 
to  make  a  great  deal  more  money  elsewhere;  but  I 
never  found  elsewhere  the  artistic  atmosphere,  the  home 
of  art,  that  remains  unchanged  here  always."  One  reason 
for  the  enthusiasm  with  which  all  the  actors  in  the 
Daly  company  regarded  their  work,  lay  in  the  tireless 
devotion  of  the  manager  himself  to  the  interests  of  the 
theatre.  Frequently,  after  the  play  of  the  evening  was 
over  and  the  theatre  closed,  at  midnight,  he  would  be- 
gin a  regular  set-to  rehearsal  of  the  scenery  for  a  new 
production,  and  continue  there,  working  with  the  scene- 
painter  and  the  stage  artisans  until  seven  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  Then  he  would  breakfast  and  begin  on  the 
business  of  another  day. 

How  a  man  so  burdened  with  the  details  of  theatrical 
management  could  find  time  to  turn  out  plays  as  often 

373 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

as  Daly  did,  was  a  profound  mystery.  His  "  Under  the 
Gaslight,"  "  Article  47  "  (written  for  Clara  Morris), 
and  "  Pique  "  (for  Fanny  Davenport)  were  some  of  his 
successful  original  works,  while  from  the  German  and 
the  French  he  made  adaptations  without  number.  No 
branch  of  theatrical  activity,  indeed,  was  alien  to  the 
dynamic  brain  and  broad  human  sympathy  of  Augustin 
Daly,  and  every  player  who  ever  had  the  luck  to  be 
associated  with  him  looks  back  to  the  experience  with 
a  heart  full  of  gratitude.  To  the  early  period  of  Mr. 
Daly's  managerial  activities  belong  Agnes  Ethel,  for 
whom  he  adapted  "  Frou-Frou,"  Clara  Morris,  Fanny 
Davenport,  Kate  Claxton,  Linda  Dietz,  Sara  Jewett, 
Mrs.  G.  H.  Gilbert,  James  Lewis,  George  Clarke,  George 
Holland,  Louis  James,  Mrs.  Scott-Siddons,  Mrs.  Jen- 
nings, E.  L.  Davenport,  and  Charles  Mathews.  By 
1880,  Ada  Rehan  and  John  Drew  had  been  added  to  the 
company,  and  a  theatre  bearing  its  manager's  name 
opened  on  Broadway,  near  Thirty-first  Street.  Miss 
Rehan  was  now  the  central  figure  in  the  brilliant  stock 
company,  having  served  a  valuable  apprenticeship  as 
a  member  of  Mrs.  John  Drew's  company  at  the  Arch 
Street  Theatre,  Philadelphia.1 

Ada  Rehan  is  essentially  a  comedian,  but  one  of  the 
great  successes  of  her  career  was  as  the  strong  yet 
tender  Kate  Verity  in  "  The  Squire,"  a  piece  filched  in 
large  part  from  Hardy's  novel,  "  Far  from  the  Mad- 
ding Crowd."  Clarke  Davis  has  declared  that  some  of 

1  It  was  the  printer  here,  who,  by  a  typographical  error,  caused  her 
to  be  called  Rehan;  her  real  name  was  Crehan. 

374 


THE    WALLACK   COMPANY   OF    1863 
See  page  371 


LESTER    WALLACK    AS    BENEDICK 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

the  noblest  acting  he  ever  saw  occurred  in  the  two  scenes 
of  this  play  which  Miss  Rehan  shared  with  Charles 
Fisher,1  that  gifted  comedian  of  an  earlier  generation 
who  had  been  one  of  the  props  of  the  Wallack  theatres, 
and  whose  Dandy  Dinmont  divided  with  Meg  Merrilies 
the  honours  of  Miss  Cushman's  greatest  performance. 
The  whimsical,  quaint  humour  of  James  Lewis  and  the 
dry,  crab-apple  humour  of  Charles  Leclerq  x  were,  also, 
seen  to  very  good  advantage  in  this  play.  The  tragic 
foil  to  Miss  Rehan,  in  the  Daly  company,  was  Miss 
Virginia  Dreher,  while  John  Drew  was  uniformly  clever 
and  capable  then  as  now  —  especially  so,  perhaps,  when 
playing  vis-d-vis  with  Miss  Rehan.  Mrs.  Gilbert,  who 
had  begun  her  career  as  a  dancer,  was  another  valuable 
member  of  the  Daly  company.  She  came  to  it  first 
in  1867  and  so  was  able,  for  many  years,  to  present  the 
antiquated  dames  or  fine  old  women  of  legitimate 
comedy  in  the  impressive  manner  made  famous  before 
her  time  by  Mrs.  Vernon  and  Mrs.  John  Drew. 

It  was,  of  course,  a  very  great  advantage  which  this 
theatre  enjoyed  in  being  managed  by  a  gentleman  who 
was  his  own  playwright.  When  Shakespeare  or  the  old 
English  comedies  were  not  holding  the  stage,  farces 
were  put  on  which  Mr.  Daly  had  himself  cleverly 
adapted  from  the  German.  For  ingenuity,  variety,  and 
unflagging  fun  there  never  were  such  farces,  and  as  given 

1  Charles  Fisher  and  Charles  Leclerq  were  both  brothers  of  distin- 
guished actresses.  Leclerq's  sister  supported  Fechter  during  his  earlier 
seasons  in  America,  and  Fisher's  sister  was  the  celebrated  Clara,  about 
whom  the  gilded  youth  of  the  period  raved  long  and  loud,  and  after 
whom  everything,  from  cakes  to  omnibuses,  was  named. 

375 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

by  James  Lewis  and  Mrs.  Gilbert,  by  John  Drew  and 
Miss  Ada  Rehan,  by  Otis  Skinner  and  Miss  Dreher, 
they  kept  their  public  laughing  night  after  night  and  so 
contributed  greatly  to  the  success  and  prestige  of  their 
gifted  author.  Moreover,  the  manager  could  recoup  by 
means  of  a  German  farce  the  enormous  expense  sustained 
in  putting  on  Shakespeare  and  the  old  comedies  in 
lavish  style. 

Beginning  with  1884,  Mr.  Daly  took  his  company  to 
England  every  second  year  for  some  time,  and  though 
London,  as  might  have  been  expected,  did  not  show 
itself  very  enthusiastic  over  the  German-American 
farces,  the  critics  could  not  find  the  adjectives  to  praise 
adequately  the  "  Taming  of  the  Shrew  "  as  these  players 
presented  it,  beautifully  set  with  charming  scenery, 
with  appropriate  dresses  and  grouping,  with  the  In- 
duction retained  and  with  good  musical  effects.  Ada 
Rehan  was  pronounced  "  the  only  really  adequate 
Katharine  seen  upon  the  stage  in  the  memory  of  middle- 
aged  enthusiasts." 

When  Augustin  Daly  died,  in  1899,  American  drama, 
scarcely  less  than  the  men  and  women  intimately  con- 
nected with  Daly's  Theatre,  sustained  an  almost  ir- 
remediable loss.  For  Daly  knew  the  literature  of  the 
theatre  and  had  collected  one  of  the  finest  dramatic 
libraries  in  America,  as  well  as  many  articles  of  great 
interest  to  theatre-goers.  Garrick's  writing-desk,  which 
he  also  used  for  a  make-up  table,  and  the  scales,  bond, 
and  knife  employed  by  Kean  in  "  Merchant  of  Venice  " 
were  among  the  treasures  of  his  wonderful  collection. 

376 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

All  were  sold  and  scattered,  instead  of  being  held  intact 
in  some  safe  place  where  tjiey  might  have  been  accessible 
to  those  at  work  in  the  difficult  branch  of  theatrical 
research. 

After  Daly's  death,  Daniel  Frohman  acquired  the 
lease  of  his  theatre  and  sustained  for  several  years  the 
prestige  of  the  Daly  stock  company;  but  the  day  of 
"  regular  stock  "  was  now  over.  For  many  years  there 
had  been  reproduced  at  this  theatre  the  methods  and 
standards  of  the  Comedie  Fran^ais;  but  the  end  had  to 
come.  The  old  order,  indeed,  had  already  begun  to 
change  when,  in  1886,  Daniel  Frohman  organized  his 
Lyceum  Theatre  stock  company  and  proceeded  to 
make  theatrical  history  at  the  little  playhouse  on 
Fourth  Avenue  and  Twenty-third  Street.  This  theatre 
was  the  inspiration  of  Steele  MacKaye,  and  the  first 
play  put  on  was  "  Dakolar "  with  Robert  Mantell, 
John  Mason,  and  Viola  Allen  in  the  cast.  Miss  Helen 
Dauvray  was  a  manager  for  a  short  time  during  these 
early  years,  and  David  Belasco  served  as  stage  manager. 
How  Belasco  grew 'from  this  beginning  to  his  present 
position  of  great  influence  on  the  American  stage  has 
been  so  well  told  by  Montrose  Moses  in  his  book,  "  The 
American  Dramatist " 1  that  I  need  not  here  rehearse 
the  interesting  story. 

E.  H.  Sothern  was  one  of  the  "  stars  "  developed  by 
this  able  stage  manager,  the  play  through  which  he  first 


1 "  The  American  Dramatist,"  Little,  Brown,  &  Co.,  Boston.  Be- 
cause this  book  very  admirably  presents  the  history  of  native  drama  in 
America,  I  have  touched  very  lightly  on  this  subject. 

377 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

came  to  public  notice  being  "  The  Highest  Bidder. " 
One  factor  used  in  bringing  immense  audiences  to  this 
attraction,  night  after  night,  was  sensational  publicity 
of  a  kind  then  new  to  America.  A  messenger  boy  was 
sent  to  Europe  to  deliver  addressed  souvenirs  of  the 
play  to  all  the  leading  actors  over  there,  and  a  member 
of  the  company,  who  was  a  strong  swimmer,  appeared 
alongside  an  ocean  liner,  near  the  Atlantic  Highlands, 
and  astonished  the  officer  in  charge  by  answering  to  the 
inquiry  if  he  wanted  a  life-preserver:  "  I  only  want  to 
know  if  the  passengers  on  this  boat  have  seen  '  The 
Highest  Bidder.'  " 

Richard  Mansfield  and  Mrs.  Fiske  (then  Minnie 
Maddern)  were  also  among  the  gifted  artists  toward 
whose  development  Daniel  Frohman  contributed  no- 
tably back  in  the  middle  eighties.  This  astute  manager 
would  have  pushed  the  fortunes  of  Bernard  Shaw,  too, 
if  that  dramatist  had  been  willing  to  come  to  America 
on  a  salary,  and  write  one  play  a  year  for  the  Lyceum 
Company.  Shaw  refused  the  generous  certainty  adding, 
characteristically,  that  he  preferred  working  in  Eng- 
land for  less  money,  under  the  stimulus  of  necessity, 
to  losing  his  inspiration,  as  he  knew  he  should  if  he 
became  financially  opulent.1 

Several  other  English  dramatists  of  our  time  were 
brought  prominently  to  the  attention  of  the  American 
public  by  Daniel  Frohman,  among  them  Finer o  and 
Henry  Arthur  Jones,  R.  C.  Carton  and  Anthony  Hope. 

1  "  Memories  of  a  Manager  "  by  Daniel  Frohman.  Doubleday,  Page 
&  Co.,  New  York. 

378 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  The  Second  Mrs.  Tanqueray,"  it  is  interesting  to  note, 
was  regarded  in  1887  as  meat  too  strong  for  anything 
except  afternoon  audiences;  "  Sweet  Lavender,"  "  Lady 
Bountiful,"  and  "  The  Amazons  "  were  more  nearly 
the  kind  of  thing  regular  theatre-goers  in  New  York  then 
desired.  In  view  of  the  recent  revival  of  this  last-named 
play,  it  is  interesting  to  recall  that  the  Indian  club  exer- 
cises of  Georgia  Cayvan  in  the  last  act,  made  a  great 
sensation  when  the  piece  was  originally  produced,  and 
that  Ferdinand  Gottschalk,  then,  as  later,  scored  an 
enormous  success  by  his  convincing  portrayal  of  Lord 
Tweenways,  the  weak  scion  of  a  noble  family.  Georgia 
Cayvan  was  the  leading  lady  of  the  first  stock  company 
at  the  Lyceum,  Isabel  Irving,  Mary  Mannering,  Maude 
Adams,1  Bertha  Galland,  Hilda  Spong,  Julie  Opp,  and 
Bessie  Tyree  being  other  women  who  here  first  came 
prominently  into  public  notice.  James  K.  Hackett, 
Herbert  Kelcey,  William  Courtleigh,  Fritz  Williams, 
Henry  Miller,  and  Walter  Hale  are  some  of  the  men 
brought  forward  by  this  company.  It  was  in  connec- 
tion with  the  Lyceum  Theatre,  too,  that  there  was 
founded  the  school  of  acting,  now  known  as  the  American 
Academy  of  Dramatic  Art,  of  which  Franklin  Haven 
Sargent  is  director. 

1  Maude  Adams,  born  November  n,  1872,  in  Salt  Lake  City,  where 
her  mother  was  leading  woman  of  a  stock  company,  appeared  first  on 
the  stage  in  children's  parts  and,  at  sixteen,  played  with  E.  H.  Sothern 
in  New  York.  Subsequently  she  was  leading  lady  in  various  companies 
and  supported  John  Drew  for  five  years.  Her  career  as  a  "  star  "  began 
in  1897,  when  she  appeared  with  very  great  success  as  Lady  Babbie  in 
"  The  Little  Minister,"  the  author  himself  having  chosen  her  for  this 
part.  She  also  created  the  role  of  Peter  Pan  in  Barrie's  play  of  that 
name. 

379 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  The  Second  Mrs.  Tanqueray,"  was  eventually  given 
a  regular  New  York  production  by  Madge  Robertson 
Kendal.  Daniel  Frohman,  who  had  a  hand  in  this 
matter,  tells  us  that  because  Mrs.  Kendal  had  pre- 
viously been  widely  known  as  the  "  British  matron  " 
of  the  drama,  —  by  reason  of  the  purity  of  her  domes- 
tic life,1  —  she  was  greatly  criticized  in  the  New  York 
press  for  appearing  in  a  role  so  at  variance  with  her 

career  as  a  woman  and  an  actress. 

• 

At  least  passing  mention 2  must  here  be  made  of 
two  other  theatres:  the  Union  Square  Theatre,  opened 
on  East  Fourteenth  Street,  September  n,  1871,  and 
destined,  under  the  able  management  of  Albert  M. 
Palmer,  to  make  a  notable  contribution  to  the  develop- 
ment of  the  American  Theatre,  and  the  Madison  Square. 
The  original  intention  was  to  make  the  Union  Square 
a  variety  theatre,  and  during  its  initial  year  it  was  run 
on  that  basis.  Thus  it  was  that  the  Yokes  family  here 
appeared  for  the  first  time  in  America,3  and  so  helped 
establish  "  vaudeville  "  in  this  country.  This  family 
was  made  up  of  English  specialty  performers,  and  Rosina 

1  Mrs.  Kendal  is  the  sister  of  the  late  J.  W.  Robertson,  author  of 
"  Caste,"  "  School,"  and  other  well-known  plays  of  the  "  tea-cup  and 
saucer  "  drama.    She  made  her  debut  in  London  as  Ophelia  in  1885  and 
four  years  later  married  W.  H.  Kendal  Grimston,  with  whom,  in  accord- 
ance with  a  promise  exacted  by  her  father,  she  has  appeared  constantly 
while  on  the  stage.    Thus  the  Kendals  became  noted  for  their  "  team 
work."    Their  first  American  appearance  was  in  1889,  when  they  played 
"  A  Scrap  of  Paper  "  at  the  Fifth  Avenue  Theatre.    Subsequently  they 
made  five  very  successful  tours  in  this  country. 

2  Space  limitations  make  it  impossible  to  treat  this  branch  of  the 
subject  adequately.    T.  Allston  Brown  has  devoted  three  huge  tomes  to 
the  history  of  the  New  York  stage  and  then  brought  his  chronicle  only 
as  far  as  1903. 

3  The  exact  date  of  their  American  d6but  was  April  15,  1872. 

380 


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—  ~ 

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I.    3 


las 


111 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

was  its  most  gifted  member.  Their  "  vehicle  "  at  the 
Union  Square  was  a  farcical  absurdity  entitled  "  Belles 
of  the  Kitchen,"  in  which  singing,  dancing,  pantomime 
and  burlesque  acting  all  had  a  place.  They  were  fol- 
lowed by  a  swarm  of  imitators  who  made  possible  on 
the  legitimate  stage  the  kind  of  thing  which  had  pre- 
viously been  confined  to  the  variety  theatres  —  not  then 
considered  a  proper  place  for  ladies  to  attend.  But 
some  ladies  found  this  new  species  of  entertainment 
attractive,  and  so,  of  course,  there  arose  managers  who 
were  glad  to  provide  them  with  it.  And  "  since  a  taste 
for  caviare  and  pate  defoie  gras,  when  once  acquired,  is 
not  easily  shaken  off,"  l  it  must  be  reluctantly  conceded 
to-day,  of  vaudeville  houses,  as  of  the  poor,  that  we 
have  them  "  always  with  us." 

The  season  of  1872  at  the  Union  Square  was  under 
Mr.  Palmer's  management,  and  the  opening  bill  was 
Sardou's  "Andrea"  (called  "Agnes")  with  Agnes 
Ethel  in  the  title  role.  It  played  one  hundred  nights 
and  was  followed  by  "  London  Assurance "  and  a 
series  of  notable  productions  made  by  the  very  remark- 
able stock  company  which  had  here  been  assembled. 
Among  the  plays  which  enjoyed  long  runs  under  the 
Palmer  2  regime  were  "  Led  Astray,"  "  The  Two  Or- 
phans," "The  Danicheffs,"  "A  Celebrated  Case," 
"  Rose  Michel,"  "  The  Geneva  Cross,"  "  The  Banker's 
Daughter,"  and  "  My  Partner."  Mark  Twain's  "  Gilded 
Age,"  with  John  T.  Raymond  as  Colonel  Sellers,  and 

1  North  American  Review,  February,  1887. 

2  He  retired  May  14,  1883. 

381 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

Bret  Harte's  "  Two  Men  of  Sandy  Bar  "  were  brought 
out  at  this  house,  and  here,  too,  on  October  13,  1886, 
Margaret  Mather  made  her  first  New  York  appearance. 
Among  the  actors  and  actresses  who  owed  much  of  their 
reputation  to  this  theatre  during  its  palmy  days  were 
Charles  Thorne,  Agnes  Ethel,  Sara  Jewett,  Stuart 
Robson,  Clara  Morris,  McKee  Rankin,  Kate  Claxton, 
Maude  Granger,  Richard  Mansfield,  Katherine  Rogers, 
Charles  Coghlan,  E.  M.  Holland,  J.  H.  Stoddart,  Mau- 
rice Barrymore,  and  Frederick  Robinson. 

The  Madison  Square  Theatre  —  opened  on  February 
4,  1880,  with  "  Hazel  Kirke  "  by  James  Steele  MacKaye 
-  also  played  an  important  part  in  the  theatrical  history 
of  New  York.  The  Rev.  G.  S.  Mallory  and  Marshall 
Mallory  were  the  business  backers  of  this  house,  find- 
ing financial  relationship  with  the  drama  not  at  all 
incompatible  with  the  publishing  of  The  Churchman. 
The  Mallorys  were  desirous  of  putting  on  American 
plays  at  their  theatre,  and  let  their  desire  be  known, 
with  the  result  that  in  three  months  Henry  C.  De  Mille, 
who  had  been  engaged  as  play-reader,  examined  two 
hundred  manuscripts  submitted  by  would-be  American 
playwrights.  When  a  drama  was  accepted,  it  was 
turned  over  for  re-shaping  to  David  Belasco,  who,  fresh 
from  managerial  successes  on  the  Pacific  slope,  came 
in  1882  to  be  stage  manager  here.  This  was  what  hap- 
pened to  Bronson  Howard's  "  The  Young  Mrs.  Win- 
throp,"  first  produced  October  9,  1882.  The  play  ran 
for  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  nights.  Daniel 
Frohman  was  the  manager  of  the  house  at  this  time. 

382 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

When  A.  M.  Palmer  assumed  control,  in  1884,  how- 
ever, there  was  no  more  of  the  "  milk  and  water  "  drama 
with  which  the  Madison  Square  had  previously  been 
associated.  Instead,  "  The  Private  Secretary  "  was 
almost  immediately  produced;  it,  too,  ran  more  than 
one  hundred  and  fifty  nights.  T.  Alls  ton  Brown  com- 
ments that  this  was  "  a  screaming  farce  with  a  low 
comedy  clergyman  as  the  hero  "  l  and  seems  to  wonder 
that  Dr.  Mallory  offered  no  protest  to  it.  The  fact, 
however,  that  Gillette  showed  himself  able  in  this  play 
to  write  a  farce  which  did  not  sacrifice  the  essential 
qualities  of  humanity  —  and  that  the  public  took 
heartily  to  such  a  farce  —  seems  to  me  quite  as  note- 
worthy as  that  a  clergyman  failed  to  protest  because 
mild  fun  was  here  poked  at  another  clergyman.  Two 
fetishes  were  now  demolished  at  one  blow:  first,  that 
"  the  cloth "  is  sacrosanct;  second,  that  a  piece 
needs  to  be  grossly  overdrawn  and  de-humanized  in 
order  to  be  thoroughly  amusing.  Later,  this  house 
was  intimately  associated  with  farce  that  had  little 
or  nothing  except  ridiculous  situations  to  make  it 
theatrically  effective;  for,  in  1891,  Charles  Hoyt  be- 
came one  of  its  lessees  and  so  was  able  to  produce 
"  A  Trip  to  Chinatown,"  "  A  Temperance  Town/' 
"  A  Texas  Steer,"  and  various  other  Hoyt  perpe- 
trations. 

Steele  MacKaye,  Bronson  Howard,  William  Gillette, 
and  Charles  Hoyt  were  all  American  playwrights,  how- 
ever, and  were  now  giving  American  types  of  character 
1  "  A  History  of  the  New  York  Stage,"  v.  II,  p.  420. 

383 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

to  our  stage.1  In  an  analysis  of  the  plays  presented  in 
New  York  between  1884-1888  —  when  Wallack's, 
Daly's,  the  Madison  Square,  and  the  Lyceum  were  all 
equipped  with  permanent  companies  playing  serious 
drama  —  it  was  observed  that  every  one  of  the  enduring 
successes  were  plays  of  American  character.  The 
Jonathan  in  Royall  Tyler's  "  Contrast "  had  been  suc- 
ceeded by  Hackett's  Colonel  Nimrod  Wildfire,  Chan- 
frau's  Mose,  Jefferson's  Rip  Van  Winkle,  Frank  Mayo's 
Davy  Crockett,  Florence's  Judge  Slote,  and  the 
Joshua  Whitcomb  of  Denman  Thompson  —  characters 
true,  in  each  instance,  to  certain  phases  of  American 
life. 

To  some  of  the  latter-day  successors  of  such  play- 
wrights, plays,  and  players  and  to  the  present  outlook 
for  American  drama,  let  us  now  briefly  address  ourselves. 
There  are  those  who  think  that  there  is  absolutely  no 
gleam  of  hope  in  the  present  theatrical  situation.  That 
scholarly  and  gifted  critic,  William  Winter,  writing  five 
years  ago  of  stage  conditions  in  our  own  time,  reluc- 
tantly set  it  down  as  his  firm  conviction  that  "the  pres- 
ent day  happens  to  be  a  day  of  theatrical  decline.  The 
theatrical  audience  of  this  period,"  he  continued,  "  is 
largely  composed  of  vulgarians  who  know  nothing 
about  art  or  literature  and  who  care  for  nothing  but 
the  solace  of  their  common  tastes  and  animal  appetites: 

1  Irish-American  types  were  being  set  forth  at  the  so-called  Theatre 
Comique  managed  by  Harrigan  and  Hart  and  devoted  exclusively  to 
the  reproduction  of  scenes  of  New  York  life,  as  lived  by  amusing  types  of 
local  characters.  Here  it  was  that  the  adventures  and  misadventures 
of  the  Mulligan  Guards  were  originally  presented. 

384 


DENMAN     THOMPSON    AS    JOSHUA    WHITCOMB     IN     "  THE     OLD     HOMESTEAD  " 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

on  that  point,  observation  of  the  faces  and  manners  of 
the  multitude  would  satisfy  any  thoughtful  observer; 
and,  because  the  audience  is  largely  of  this  character, 
the  theatre  has  become  precisely  what  it  might  have 
been  expected  to  become  when  dependent  on  such 
patronage." 

While  I  yield  to  no  one  in  profound  respect  for  Mr. 
William  Winter  and  in  deep  appreciation  of  all  that  he 
has  done  to  raise  the  tone  of  the  American  theatre,  I 
dissent  utterly  from  his  gloomy  conclusion  as  here  ex- 
pressed. There  are  to-day  thirty-five  New  York  theatres 
devoted  to  the  exhibition  of  the  legitimate  drama  and 
while  occasional  salacious  or  trivial  plays  are,  of  course, 
presented,  the  general  average  struck  last  season  would 
seem  to  have  been  considerably  higher  than  during  the 
year  1869,  for  instance,  one  of  the  early  years  of  Mr. 
Winter's  connection  with  the  New  York  Tribune  and 
presumably  a  part  of  that  "  golden  age  "  to  which  his 
fond  memories  turn.  For  Richard  Grant  White,  a 
thoroughly  competent  critic,  asserted  in  The  Galaxy  for 
that  year  that  "  spectacle  —  that  is,  something  funny 
or  beautiful  or  sensational  to  look  at  —  is,  excepting 
the  broad  burlesque  of  farce,  almost  the  only  form  of 
theatrical  entertainment  now  paid  for  by  the  public." 
Under  the  head  of  "  spectacle,"  Mr.  White  meant  to 
include  the  two  most  vaunted  "  plays  of  the  period," 
"  Rosedale  "  and  "  Formosa,"  products  of  Lester  Wai- 
lack  and  Dion  Boucicault  respectively. 

"  Formosa  "  had  just  received  a  London  production 
and,  when  this  article  was  written,  was  being  acted  in 

385 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

six  theatres  of  America.  "  Rosedale,"  first  produced  in 
1863,  had  already  had  two  successful  revivals;  1  it  has 
since  enjoyed  a  number  of  other  productions  and  so  is 
perhaps  more  familiar  to  my  readers  than  any  other 
play  of  its  time.  But  who  of  us  longed  for  the  "  good 
old  days  "  as  we  saw  it  again  in  New  York,  last  spring? 
I  certainly  did  not.  Its  sentimentality,  improbability, 
and  utter  uselessness  made  me  almost  willing  to  agree 
with  Richard  Grant  White  that  "  burlesque,  —  in  that 
it  is  frankly  exaggeration  with  no  aim  higher  than  that 
of  momentary  amusement,  —  is  really  better  for  us  than 
sentimental  drama  which  deliberately  tells  lies  about 
life." 

To  run  over  some  of  the  plays  through  which  we  have 
passed,  in  America,  on  our  way  to'"  The  Great  Divide," 
"  The  Boss,"  "  Any  Night,"  and  "  To-morrow,"  is  to 
be  convinced  that  sentimentality  has  had  plenty  of 
chance  on  our  stage. 

First,  there  was  the  Indian  play.  America,  being  the 
native  land  of  the  Indian,  we  have,  naturally,  suffered 
a  good  deal  from  this  type.  Of  "  Tammany,"  written 
by  the  sister  of  Mrs.  Siddons,  mention  has  already  been 
made,  though  since  this  lady  was  not  an  American, 
precedence  here  should  be  given  perhaps  to  "  The 
Indian  Princess,"  a  work  musical  in  its  character,  of 
which  James  N.  Barker  of  Philadelphia  was  the  author, 
and  which  was  produced  at  the  Park  Theatre,  New 

1  In  its  first  season  it  set  a  new  record  for  American  theatres  by  run- 
ning one  hundred  and  twenty-five  performances  to  receipts  that  aver- 
aged nine  hundred  dollars  a  performance. 

386 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

York,  June  14,  1808.  Several  other  successful  plays, 
written  around  this  theme,  as  well  as  John  Brougham's 
clever  burlesque,  "  Pocahontas,"  also  utilized  Indian 
life  as  a  leading  motive.  The  most  noteworthy  produc- 
tion of  this  kind  was  undoubtedly  "  Metamora,"  a 
prize  drama  for  which  Forrest  paid  its  author,  John 
Augustus  Stone,  five  hundred  dollars  —  considerable 
money  in  those  days  —  and  which  the  leading  American 
tragedian  long  kept  in  his  repertoire. 

Another  American  subject,  the  Revolution,  has  fur- 
nished material  for  the  playwright  from  the  days  of 
"  Bunker  Hill;  or  the  death  of  General  Warren" 
(written  by  an  Irishman,  John  D.  Burke,  and  played  at 
the  theatre  on  John  Street,  September  8,  1779),  to  the 
"  Major  Andre  "  and  "  Nathan  Hale  "  written  by  the 
late  Clyde  Fitch.  Our  Civil  War,  too,  has  inspired 
several  playwrights,  although  the  most  successful  dramas 
written  around  this  subject  are  of  comparatively  re- 
cent years,  it  is  interesting  to  note  — "  Civil  Serv- 
ice," "  Barbara  Freitchie,"  and  "  Shenandoah  "  — 
rather  than  plays  produced  when  memories  of  the  con- 
flict were  fresh  in  the  minds  of  our  theatre-goers.  Bou- 
cicault's  "  Belle  Lamar,  An  Episode  of  the  Late  Ameri- 
can Conflict,"  written  for  John  E.  McCullough  and 
first  produced  at  Booth's  Theatre,  New  York,  August 
10,  1874,  was  one  of  the  least  successful  of  the  many 
plays  turned  out  by  the  prolific  Irishman. 

The  opportunities  presented  to  the  playwright  by  the 
frontier  life  of  the  west  were  first  realized  by  Augustin 
Daly,  who,  in  1871,  brought  out  at  the  Olympic  Theatre 

387 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

"  Horizon,"  a  piece  suggestive  of  Bret  Harte  at  his 
worst,  or  of  Nick  Carter  at  his  best.  A  much  more 
artistic  piece  of  work  was  the  "  Davy  Crockett "  of 
Frank  Murdock,  as  played  by  Frank  Mayo.  Lawrence 
Button  has  called  this  drama  of  an  American  Lochinvar 
—  who,  because  he  is  brave,  strong,  and  capable  of 
sacrifice,  wins  the  deep  love  of  a  young  woman  much  his 
superior  in  station  and  education  —  "  almost  the  best 
American  play  ever  written."  This  dictum  preceded 
by  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century,  however,  the  appear- 
ance of  "  The  Great  Divide."  It  preceded,  also,  Mr. 
Mayo's  own  dramatization  of  Mark  Twain's  "  Pudd'n- 
head  Wilson,"  a  piece  which,  as  Mr.  Mayo  played  it, 
was  entirely  worthy  to  be  classed  with  "  The  Old  Home- 
stead," "  Alabama,"  "  Kit,  the  Arkansas  Traveller,"  and 
"  M'liss,"  l  as  real  American  plays  of  wide-reaching 
appeal.  Tbus  it  will  be  seen  that  Dion  Boucicault  was 
treating  the  exact  truth  with  characteristic  carelessness 
when,  in  1890,  he  declared  of  the  American  stage  that  it 
could  best  be  described,  in  Hamlet's  lines,  as  "an 
unweeded  garden  that  grows  to  seed  —  things  rank  and 
gross  in  nature  possess  it  merely." 

To  take  a  gloomy  tone  concerning  the  theatre  in 
America  seems,  however,  to  have  been  a  kind  of  habit 
with  us  ever  since  we  began  to  have  a  theatre.  In  a 
country  so  cosmopolitan  and  heterogeneous  as  this  one 
we  must  necessarily  have  many  different  kinds  of  plays, 
for  the  simple  reason  that  we  have  many  different 

1  It  was  in  this  piece  that  Annie  Pixley  made  her  New  York  debut, 
March  22,  1880. 

388 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

kinds  of  public,  but  the  critic  with  cultivated  tastes 
usually  shuts  his  eyes  to  this  fact,  and,  focussing  his 
attention  on  some  one  of  the  fifty-seven  varieties  of 
"  Follies,"  proceeds  to  declare  that  the  theatre  is  hope- 
lessly bad.  Thus  The  Dial  of  Chicago  asserted  in  1905 
that  the  drama  in  America  was  "  little  more  than  a  low 
form  of  stagecraft/'  whereas,  in  every  continental 
country  the  theatre  was  being  regarded  as  a  vital  mode 
of  expression  and  was  enlisting  in  its  service  the  most 
penetrating  intellects  and  the  highest  creative  ability. 
On  the  continent,  it  was  pointed  out,  the  stage  "  shrank 
from  the  envisagment  of  no  serious  relation." 

England  shared  America's  disgrace  in  the  eyes  of  The 
Dial's  essayist,  for  Phillips,  Pinero,  and  Jones  were  the 
best  men  that  country  could  then  show,  even  as  Augus- 
tus Thomas  and  Clyde  Fitch  —  whose  concern  was  still 
with  the  trivial  and  the  superficial  only  —  headed  our 
own  short  list  of  dramatists.  Yet  if  The  Dial  were  wri- 
ting that  caustic  editorial  to-day,  it  would  be  obliged  to 
add  Shaw  and  Galsworthy,  Rann  Kennedy  and  Jerome 
K.  Jerome  to  the  English  list,  and  Edward  Sheldon, 
Edward  Knoblauch,  William  Vaughn  Moody,  Elizabeth 
Robins,  Rachel  Crothers,  Josephine  Preston  Peabody, 
and  Percy  MacKaye  to  the  choice  company  of  American 
playwrights.  These  new  names,  it  is  to  be  noted,  all 
represent  dramatists  who  write  seriously,  too,  men  and 
women  who  deal  so  earnestly  with  important  contem- 
porary aspects  of  human  life  and  human  thought,  that 
their  work  is  being  printed  as  well  as  played,  and  played 
as  well  as  printed!  Our  commercial  showmen  have 

389 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

now  come  to  see  that  the  public  intelligence  and  public 
capacity  have  too  long  been  underestimated. 

Playwrights  are  asserting,  and  the  play-going  public 
is  glad  to  concede,  that  social  movements  and  social 
ideals  have  a  claim  to  dramatic  representation.  A  vast 
number  of  Americans  to-day  are  in  earnest  about  life, 
and  playwrights  who  appeal  to  our  social  interests  and 
who,  by  skilful  dramaturgic  presentation  of  a  "  Vision," 
help  us  to  see  clearly  the  things  we  have  been  puzzled 
about,  are  assured  of  immediate  success. 

At  last,  too,  we  seem  to  have  concluded  that  the 
problems  of  the  plain  people  are  worthy  of  dramatic 
treatment.  Moliere  and  Shakespeare  were  always 
thinking,  as  they  wrote,  of  the  plain  people  who  were  to 
constitute  the  bulk  of  their  audiences.  And  the  God 
who  demonstrated  His  love  of  the  plain  people  by  ma- 
king so  many  of  them  —  and  who  has  always  blessed 
with  immortality  the  work  of  authors  able  to  pass  on  to 
succeeding  generations  the  hopes  and  fears  of  the  plain 
people  of  their  day  —  shows  Himself  consistently  gra- 
cious to  social-minded  playwrights  of  our  own  time.  Of 
course  contemporary  critics  are  often  very  slow  to  ac- 
claim the  merits  of  men  and  women  who  paint  the  thing 
as  they  see  it  for  the  God  of  things  as  they  are;  appar- 
ently they  are  as  shocked  at  a  drama  which  is  not  pri- 
marily "  literary  "  as  was  M.  Jourdain  when  he  made 
the  appalling  discovery  that  he  had  all  his  life  been 
talking  "  prose."  In  the  field  of  the  novel  we  came  long 
ago  to  accept  realism  as  a  valuable  contribution  to  our 
understanding  of  life.  On  the  stage,  however,  fustian 

390 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

and  bombast  still  lingered;  it  was  expected  that,  at  the 
theatre,  triviality  and  improbability  should  prevail. 
Otherwise  no  intelligent  person  could  have  read  such 
a  novel  as  "  The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel  "  in  the 
afternoon,  and  sat  through  a  play  like  "  Rosedale  "  in 
the  evening.1  But  at  the  time  that  "Rosedale"  was 
written,  it  was  not  thought  necessary  that  any  drama- 
tist, except  Shakespeare,  should  deal  with  the  eternal 
verities.  When  Shakespeare  was  not  being  played,  the 
theatre  was  regarded  as  a  pleasant  place  in  which  to 
"  have  a  good  time."  Conflict,  even  sentimental  heart- 
ache there  might  be,  briefly,  but  it  must  all  "  come  out 
right;  "  the  day  of  the  "  Doll's  House  " 2  was  not  yet. 
To-day,  however,  we  demand  that  our  plays  shall,  above 
all  else,  tell  us  the  truth;  the  successful  comedy  of 
manners  must  be  a  cbmedy  of  morals  as  well. 

That  the  consummation  of  the  "  intimate  "  theatre 
has  had  a  great  deal  to  do  with  the  multiplication  of 
plays  whose  appeal  is  direct  and  forceful,  there  can  be 
no  doubt.  The  plays  of  Shakespeare,  as  we  all  know, 
were  frequently  performed  in  buildings  open  to  the  sky, 
with  only  the  crudest  of  scenery.  The  pieces  of  Moliere, 
on  the  other  hand,  were  given  by  candle-light  in  a  closed 
hall,  so  making  scenery  possible.  By  the  time  of  Sheri- 

1  For  this  penetrating  observation,  and  for  much  that  is  helpful  and 
suggestive  in  regard  to  our  developing  dramatic  intelligence,  I  am  in- 
debted to  Clayton  Hamilton's  article  in  the  Bookman  of  June,  1913. 

2  The  production  of  Ibsen's  "  Doll's  House  "  in  London,  in  1889,  has 
been  characterized  by  G.  B.  Shaw  as  a  knockout  blow  to  the  British 
drama  of  the  eighties.    Not  that  the  public  liked  Ibsen,  but  that,  after 
Ibsen,  no  modern  manager  could  be  expected  to  have  courage  enough 
to  give  Byron  or  Tom  Taylor  or  Sardou. 

391 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

dan  there  were  theatres  much  like  ours  externally,  but 
huge  in  size,  badly  lighted  with  oil  lamps  which  smelled 
to  heaven,  and  having  a  stage  which  projected  far 
beyond  the  proscenium  arch.  On  this  space  beyond 
the  curtain  and  close  to  the  flickering  footlights  it  was 
necessary  to  act  those  vital  episodes  which  require  a 
sight  of  the  actor's  face  to  be  understood.  Conse- 
quently, these  episodes  occurred  but  rarely;  only  one, 
indeed,  was  considered  essential  to  every  play  —  that 
which  committed  the  heroine  to  the  hero's  embrace  as 
the  final  curtain  fell.  One  very  important  step  in  the 
history  of  the  American  Theatre  was  the  introduction 
of  gas  in  the  playhouse. 

Not  very  long  after  it  had  become  possible,  by  means 
of  gas,  to  give  to  a  play  all  the  light  necessary  to  make 
its  action  completely  visible  to  the  audience,  another 
step  scarcely  less  important  was  made  feasible.  This 
was  such  use  of  electricity  as  enabled  the  playwright 
to  create  atmospheric  effects  on  the  stage.  Who  can 
forget  the  impressiveness  of  James  Herne's  final  "  cur- 
tains? "  Which  of  us  failed  to  respond  to  the  true 
psychology  of  that  utter  darkness  which  marked  the 
confession  episode  in  "  The  Climbers?  " 

Through  the  development  of  lighting  facilities  in  the 
theatre,  it  has  become  possible  to  eliminate  the  space 
in  front  of  the  curtain,  for,  by  the  newer  means  of  il- 
lumination, an  actor  may  now  speak  his  important 
lines  anywhere  on  the  stage,  or  make  an  effect  by  an 
abrupt  change  of  expression  without  saying  a  single 
word.  Thus  the  proscenium-opening  is  now  become  a 

392 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 


picture-frame,  when  a  picture  is  presented,  or  just  the 
wide  door  into  another  room  in  the  case  of  ^  intimate  " 
drama. 

At  the  same  time  that  these  changes  were  being 
brought  about,  and  our  theatres  becoming  physically 
suited  to  plays  through  which  life  lessons  might  be 
brought  sharply  home  to  an  audience,  the  stock  com- 
pany was  gradually  relegated  to  the  sanctifying 'past. 
Most  writers  on  stage  'subjects  mourn  this  loudly  and 
long.  More  invective  has  probably  been  wasted  on  the 
"  star  "  system  than  on  any  otjier  modern  institution. 
Yet  to  abuse  the  "  star  "  system  is  neither  to  account 
for  it  nor  to  help  make  it  better.  In  the  field  of  the 
theatre,  as  elsewhere,  there  is  usually  an  economic  reason 
why  things  are  as  they  are,  and  though  we  attributed  to 
the  great  personal  ambition  of  Thomas  Cooper,  some 
chapters  back,  the  rise  of  the  starring  practice  as  it 
concerned  native  American  actors,  we  must  go  a  step 
further  if  we  would  understand  how  the  custom  grew  to 
its  present  proportions.  When  actors  could  travel  from 
place  to  place  only  by  stage-coach  —  or  by  private 
carriage,  as  Cooper  did  —  it  naturajly  followed  that 
from  purely  economical  reasons  they  hesitated  to  take 
the  risk  of  "  starring."  When  the  risk  was  taken,  it 
became  necessary  for  the  actor  to  employ  an  "  agent " 
on  a  salary  or  on  a  percentage  basis,  who  would  relieve 
the  artist  of  the  business  details  incidental  to  his  work. 
Then  it  was  only  the  star  and  his  agent  who  travelled 
from  city  to  city,  for  in  each  place  were  to  be  found 
resident  companies  qualified  to  give  support  in  all  well- 

393 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

known  plays.  "  Stock  "  actors  were  then  actors  who, 
living  in  New  Orleans  or  Boston  or  Philadelphia,  had 
the  roles  of  Shakespearean  and  other  well-known  plays 
in  stock.  In  the  course  of  time,  however,  some  of  the 
principal  stars,  who  had  become  dissatisfied  with  the 
kind  of  support  they  were  receiving,  ventured  upon  the 
experiment  of  engaging  and  carrying  with  them  other 
actors  who  should  play  the  more  important  parts;  thus 
only  the  minor  and  unimportant  parts  were  left  for  the 
stock  companies  to  fill. 

Then  one  day  a  particularly  daring  innovator  con- 
cluded to  try  the  experiment  of  organizing  and  taking 
about  the  country  an  entire  company  of  players  to  pre- 
sent a  particular  play.  This  new  method  of  organiza- 
tion, known  as  the  "  combination  system,"  met  with 
immediate  success,  for  the  reason  that  the  public  now 
got  better  acting  for  its  money  than  it  had  received  for 
a  long  time,  and  because  the  manager,  while  relieved  of 
the  financial  risk  incidental  to  carrying  a  stock  com- 
pany, found  his  box  office  receipts  greater  than  ever. 
To  be  sure,  his  powers  were  abbreviated  and,  under  the 
Trust,  which  soon  developed,  men  who  had  been  re- 
sponsible managers,  proud  of  their  profession  and  keenly 
conscious  of  their  duty  to  the  community  of  which  they 
were  a  part,  became  mere  "  janitors."  In  time  they 
were  even  deprived  of  the  power  which  had  heretofore 
been  theirs  by  natural  right,  —  the  power,  that  is,  to 
say  what  attractions  they  would  and  would  not  have 
in  their  theatres. 

To  discuss  at  all  adequately  here  the  immense  and 

394 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

far-reaching  influence  of  the  great  theatrical  syndicate,1 
which  first  reared  its  portentous  head  in  America  some 
seventeen  years  ago,  would  take  far  more  space  than  is 
now  available.  For  this  appalling  theatrical  monopoly 
—  started  in  New  York  as  a  shrewdly  organised  booking 
agency,  which  should  distribute  the  touring  companies 
among  the  hundreds  of  theatres  in  principal  cities 
throughout  the  United  States  —  gradually  became  a 
Trust  of  such  proportions  that  it  could  be  successfully 
fought  only  by  the  creation  of  other  similar  Trusts. 
Exactly  this  was  what  ultimately  came  to  pass  —  with 
the  result  that  healthy  competition  and  high  enter- 
prise are  now  again  established.  David  Belasco  among 
the  playwrights  and  Minnie  Maddern  Fiske  among  the 
players  contributed  enormously,  by  the  sturdy  fight 
they  put  up,  to  the  present  bettered  conditions. 

It  is  to  be  noted,  however,  that  while  Mr.  Belasco 
and  Mrs.  Fiske  fought  the  Syndicate,  they  did  not 
waste  their  strength  fighting  the  "  star  "  system.  They 
evidently  recognize  that  except  in  sporadic  cases  the 
"  star  system  "  has  come  to  stay.  Means  of  communi- 
cation are  now  so  easy  and  specialization  is  so  much 
the  note  of  our  time  that  it  is  doubtful  if  either  the 
players  or  the  public  would  welcome  a  return  to  the 
old  methods. 

Because  the  booking  end  of  the  theatrical  business  is 
in  New  York,  and  because  the  little  group  of  managers 

1  Both  sides  of  the  question  were  very  ably  stated  in  the  Cosmopolitan 
Magazine  for  December,  1904,  David  Belasco  speaking  for  himself  and 
Harrison  Grey  Fiske,  Marc  Klaw  defending  the  system  for  himself  and 
his  partner  Erlanger. 

395 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

who  control  the  leading  playhouses  of  the  metropolis 
likewise  control  a  large  number  of  theatres  in  other 
cities,  it  is  true  to-day,  as  has  been  cleverly  said,  that 
"  when  New  York  takes  dramatic  snuff,  Boston,  Minne- 
apolis, Washington,  St.  Louis,  New  Orleans,  and  San 
Francisco  will  presently  sneeze."  So  long  as  New  York 
"  plays  fair  "  this  seems  to  me  well  enough;  but  Boston, 
Minneapolis  and  the  other  cities  would  do  well  to  guard, 
through  their  Drama  Leagues  or  otherwise,  against 
such  misrepresentation  as  occurs  when  a  play,  pre- 
sented obscurely  in  Brooklyn,  is  sent  out  on  the  road 
with  large-type  posters  proclaiming  that  it  was  a  "  great 
New  York  success." 

A  good  deal  of  the  "  dramatic  snuff  "  taken  in  New 
York  during  the  last  year  or  two  seems  to  me  of  a  par- 
ticularly stimulating  variety,  however,  and  I  should 
think  that  the  resultant  sneezing  ought  to  be  a  very 
wholesome  exercise  in  large  cities  all  over  the  country. 
For  one  thing,  New  York  has  been  hospitable  to  Bernard 
Shaw,  which  bodes  well  for  both  our  social  and  our 
mental  development.  Thackeray,  in  "  Vanity  Fair," 
wrote  a  play  without  a  hero,  but  it  remained  for  Bern- 
ard Shaw  to  give  us  dramas  so  subtle  —  and  so  fair  — 
that  we  did  not  know  with  which  character,  or  set  of 
characters,  to  sympathize.  This,  of  course,  marked  a 
distinct  advance;  for  it  meant  that  a  play  must  now 
appeal  to  our  minds  rather  than  to  our  emotions. 

Then  there  were  those  wonderfully  well-acted  presen- 
tations at  the  New  Theatre  of  Galsworthy's  "  Strife  " 
and  of  "  The  Pigeon  "  —  admirable  plays  as  well  as 

396 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

stirring  sermons;  and,  last  winter,  Brieux's  "  Damaged 
Goods,"  an  example  of  that  continental  drama  of  ideas  to- 
wards which  The  Dial's  critic  was  loudly  yearning  in  1905. 
Nor  is  Brieux  the  only  playwright  who  has  dealt  radi- 
cally with  this  greatest  question  of  our  time  —  eugen- 
ics; Charles  Rann  Kennedy,  whose  "  Servant  in  the 
House  "  and  "  The  Terrible  Meek  "  showed  how  the 
drama  of  to-day  may  forcefully  and  directly  preach 
the  Gospel  of  Christ  to  contemporary  Laodiceans,  has 
in  "  The  Necessary  Evil  "  translated  Brieux  into  the 
Anglo-Saxon  tongue.  And  now  Percy  MacKaye,  in  his 
"  To-morrow,"  has  brought  the  question  over-seas  and 
set  it  down  in  America.  Though  this  play  has  yet  to 
be  acted  in  this  country,  its  sale,  in  published  form, 
has  exceeded  that  of  any  of  Mr.  MacKaye's  produced 
plays,  and  the  piece  is  now  being  translated  into 
German  for  probable  production  in  Germany  next 
season.  Thus  the  land  which  raised  the  question  of 
eugenics  in  Wedekind's  "  Fruhlingserwachen "  re- 
ceives an  answer  from  a  young  American  playwright. 
And  in  a  play,  too,  which  —  for  all  its  gripping  theme 
and  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  it  is  written  in  prose  —  is 
full  of  poetry,  that  poetry  of  which,  as  Richard  Mans- 
field 1  once  passionately  pointed  out,  our  stage  stands 

1  Richard  Mansfield  was  born  in  the  island  of  Heligoland,  May  24, 
1857,  and  was  educated  in  the  University  of  Jena.  He  was  prepared 
for  the  East  India  civil  service,  but  came  to  this  country  with  his  mother, 
Madame  Rudersdorff,  a  famous  teacher  of  singing,  and  opened  a  studio 
in  Boston.  Returning  to  England,  he  studied  art,  but  later  chose  the 
theatrical  profession.  In  his  time  —  he  died  in  1907  —  he  played  many 
parts,  none  better  than  the  dual  leading  character  of  "  Dr.  Jekyll  and 
Mr.  Hyde,"  or  the  r61e  of  the  dashing  poet  accorded  the  centre  of  the 
stage  in  Rostand's  "  Cyrano  de  Bergerac." 

397 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

eternally  in  need.  "  The  stage  is  for  poetry,"  declared 
this  excellent  actor,  "  for  all  the  things  some  of  us,  lying 
on  the  grass,  with  our  faces  to  the  skylark,  dream  of  on 
a  summer  day  or  on  a  moonlit  evening  —  those  things 
that  come  to  us  with  a  whiff  of  the  balsam  pine  or  the 
break  of  the  sea  on  the  beach,  or  the  touch  of  a  soft 
hand,  or  the  discovery  of  a  withered  flower.  Poetry  is 
in  us  always  and  will  crop  out  in  the  most  hardened  of 
us,  and  where  we  should  always  see  it,  and  where  it  will 
for  ever  awaken  all  that  was  born  good  and  beautiful 
in  us,  is  upon  the  stage." 

Percy  MacKaye  would  pronounce  a  devout  "  amen  " 
to  this  peroration;  he  has  just  completed  a  lyric  drama 
on  a  modern  social  theme 1  and  is  full  of  hope  concerning 
the  dramatic  outlook  in  America.  "  More  and  more," 
he  asserts,  "  the  '  social  drama,'  so  called,  is  being  recog- 
nized and  welcomed  as  a  form  of  expression  vital  to  the 
people.  Deeply  important  as  that  form  is,  however,  I 
do  not  myself  conceive  the  scope  of  drama  as  limited  to 
its  special  horizon,  for,  in  a  large  sense,  all  works  of  the 
dramatist's  imagination  —  whether  in  comedy,  trag- 
edy, romance,  history,  or  pure  fantasy  —  are  social,  if 
they  be  works  adapted  to  production  in  the  theatre. 
My  own  aim  and  interest  have  been,  and  are,  to  express 
—  and,  if  possible,  creatively  to  illumine  —  all  authen- 
tic forms  of  the  theatre.  For  this  attempt  on  the  part 
of  any  dramatist,  the  status  of  the  theatre  as  an  art- 
instrument  in  our  communities  is  tremendously  im- 

1  MacKaye's  play,  "  The  Scarecrow,"  is  also  soon  to  be  produced  in 
Germany  by  Rudolf  Schildkraut,  leading  player  under  Reinnardt. 

398 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

portant.  In  my  volumes  '  The  Playhouse  and  the 
Play '  and  '  The  Civic  Theatre  '  I  have  expressed  my 
reasons  for  believing  that  the  past  and  present  specu- 
lative basis  of  the  theatre  is  a  force  diametrically  op- 
posed to  the  progress  of  the  art  of  the  theatre.1  In 
spite  of  this,  however  (and  in  no  sense  because  of  it), 
the  prospects  of  the  drama  as  an  art  were  never  brighter 
in  our  country  —  owing  chiefly  to  an  awakening  popular 
sense  of  the  theatre's  true  function,  to  the  consequent 
beginnings  of  live  theatrical  movements,  and  to  the 
higher  calibre  of  the  men  and  women  who  are  entering 
the  theatrical  profession  and  working  there  as  artists. 
Of  these,  at  the  present  moment,  the  calibre  of  drama- 
tists and  producers  excels  that  of  interpreters.  The 
chief  need  —  and  a  crying  one,  I  believe  —  is  the  need 
for  an  adequate  training-school  for  actors;  for  without 
splendid  actors  splendid  dramas  can  with  difficulty  be 
written  or  produced." 

Percy  MacKaye's  father  was  a  splendid  actor  as  well 
as  a  successful  playwright;  during  the  phenomenal 
five  hundred  nights'  run  in  New  York  of  "  Hazel  Kirke," 
Steele  MacKaye  every  now  and  then  assumed  the  role 
of  Dunstan,  and  in  his  younger  days  he  had  played 
Hamlet  with  great  success.  He  belonged  to  a  genera- 

1  One  of  the  most  stirring  appeals  ever  made  for  the  socialization  of 
the  theatre,  came  from  the  late  William  T.  Stead,  who  wished  play-going 
to  be  paid  for  by  taxes  just  as  our  public  libraries  are.  Having  been 
brought  up  in  a  family  which  regarded  the  theatre  as  wicked,  Mr. 
Stead  first  encountered  the  tremendous  experience  of  witnessing  an 
acted  play  at  the  mature  age  of  fifty-four.  That  such  a  belated  play- 
goer should  have  been  impressed  at  once  with  the  tremendous  poten- 
tiality of  the  serious  play  as  a  social  force  is  significant. 

399 


The  Romance  of  the  American  Theatre 

tion  which  honoured  the  profession  of  the  actor  —  be- 
cause they  could  do  so.  Edwin  Booth,  Lawrence  Bar- 
rett, Charlotte  Cushman,  and  Mary  Anderson  were 
noble  men  and  women  as  well  as  gifted  players.  The 
fact  that  their  daily  concern  was  with  the  lofty  char- 
acters and  high  ideals  of  Shakespeare  not  improbably 
helped  them  to  keep  their  own  standards  high,  but  I, 
for  one,  have  the  faith  to  believe  that  the  kind  of  plays 
our  social-minded  young  playwrights  are  now  turning 
out  will  presently  cause  to  be  raised  up  among  us  young 
men  and  young  women  who  will  work  in  a  spirit  no  less 
consecrated  than  that  in  which  the  great  "  stars  "  of 
former  days  interpreted  Shakespeare.  Then  there  will 
be  done  for  America  what  the  Irish  players  are  now  doing 
for  Ireland. 

The  prospects  of  the  American  Theatre  were  never  so 
encouraging  as  now;  for  besides  being  the  heir  of  all 
the  ages  in  the  realm  of  dramatic  expression,  it  presents 
to  knight-errants  of  every  race  and  of  every  Cause  an 
open  door  of  opportunity. 


THE   END. 


4OO 


INDEX 


Adams,  Abigail,  104,  105. 

Adams,  Edwin,  322. 

Adams,  Samuel,  no,  114. 

Adams,  John  Quincy,  340. 

Adams,  Maude,  379. 

Addison,  Joseph,  47. 

Ainsworth,  William  Harrison,  161. 

"  Alabama,"  388. 

Aldrich,  Louis,  322. 

Aldrich,  Thomas  Bailey,  324,  326. 

Alger,  William  R.,  188,  199. 

Allen,  Viola,  377. 

Alsop,  Mrs.,  359. 

Anderson,  D.  C.,  322. 

Anderson,  Mary,  345,  346,  400. 

Andre,  Major,  88,  89,  90. 

Annapolis,  18,  66,  68,  69,  70. 

"  Any  Night,"  386. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  235. 

Astor,  John  Jacob,  358,  364. 

Baldwin,   Christopher  Columbus, 

232,  253. 

Baltimore,  71,  72,  73,  74,  75,  76. 
Barker,  James  N.,  386. 
Barrett,  George,  225,  336,  365. 
Barrett,  Lawrence,  195,  298,  314, 

323>  343,  345-349,  4oo. 
Barrett,  Wilson,  207. 
Barrie,  Sir  James,  379. 
Barnum,  P.  T.,  333,  365. 
Barron,  Charles,  322. 
Barrymore,  Maurice,  322,  382. 
Bayard,  William,  358. 
Beauvallet,  Leon,  272,  273,  274. 
Beekman,  John  K.,  358. 


Belasco,  David,  377,  382,  395. 
Bernard,  John,  125,  173,  176,  359. 
Bernhardt,  Sarah,  279,  301-305. 
Betterton,  Mrs.  Thomas,  2. 
Bispham,  William,  326. 
Booth,  Edwin,  169,  172,  287,  292, 

298,    299,   310,   326,   327,   347, 

348,  369,  400. 

Booth,  John  Wilkes,  319,  369. 
Booth,   Junius   Brutus,    164-172, 

211,  216,  311,  312,  313,  364. 
Booth,  Junius   Brutus,   Jr.,   313, 

369- 

Booth's  Theatre,  321,  344. 
Boston  Theatre,    274,    275,    288, 

337- 

Bonheur,  Rosa,  343. 
Boucicault,  Dion,  329,  330,  367, 

369,  370,  37i,  372,  387,  388. 
Bowery  Theatre,   185,    186,   216, 

230,  334,  361,  362,  363,  364. 
Bracegirdle,  Anne,  2. 
Brereton,  Austin,  300. 
Brieux,  397. 
Brougham,    John,    322,    366-368, 

37i,  372,  387- 
Brougham's    Lyceum,    208,    366, 

367,  37*. 
Brown,  T.  Allston,  20,  269,  355, 

380,  383. 

Bryant,  William  Cullen,  201. 
Burgoyne,  John,  82,  83,  84. 
Burke,  Edmund,  17. 
Burke,  John  D.,  387. 
Burke,  Master  Joseph,  231,  232, 

233- 


4OI 


Index 


Burr,  Aaron,  364. 

Burton,  W.  E.,  328,  364,  367,  368. 

Butler,  Pierce,  242. 

Byrne,  Henry  Herbert,  334. 

Byron,  Lord,  97,  129,  366. 

Caldwell,  James  H.,  183,  184,  191. 
Carew,  James,  309. 
Carton,  R.  C.,  378. 
"  Cato,"  20,  47,  48,  71. 
Cay  van,  Georgia,  379. 
Celeste,  Madame,  229,  230,  231. 
Chanfrau,  Frank,  384. 
Chapman,  William,  362. 
Charleston,  55-65,  76-79. 
Cheer,  Margaret,  40,  41. 
Cheney,  Arthur,  284. 
Chestnut  Street  Theatre,  91,  102, 

176. 

Chlapowski,  Charles  Bozenta,  296. 
Choate,  Rufus,  172. 
Gibber,  Charlotte,  42. 
Cibber,  Colley,  2,  3,  5,  28,  42,  67. 
Gibber,  Mrs.  Theophilus,  67. 
Clapp,  Henry  Austin,   282,   283, 

326,  340,  341. 

Clarke,  Asia  Booth,  312,  318. 
Clarke,  George,  373,  374. 
Claxton,  Kate,  374,  382. 
Clifton,  Josie,  363. 
Coghlan,  Charles,  382. 
Coghlan,  Rose,  372. 
Golden,  Cadwallader,  34. 
Coleman,  John,  280,  284. 
Coleridge,  Samuel  Taylor,  129. 
Collier,  Jeremy,  62. 
Collins,  William  Wilkie,  283. 
Congreve,  William,  62. 
Conway,  William  Augustus,  159- 

163,  183. 
Cooke,  George  Frederick,  97,  in, 

119-129,  170,  177,  188,  214. 
Cooke,  John  Esten,  46,  48. 
Cooper,  Priscilla,  363. 
Cooper,  Thomas  Abthorpe,    118, 

123,  173,  175,  176,  177,  225,  240, 

3io>  359,  393- 
Corcoran,  W.  W.,  225. 


Coree,  Joseph,  358. 
Courtleigh,  William,  379. 
Cowell,  Joe,   128,  356,  357,  358, 

360. 
Crabtree,     Lotta    Mignon,     248, 

368. 

Crawford,  Ann,  2. 
Crothers,  Rachel,  389. 
Cushman,    Charlotte,    310,    315, 

322,  334,  337,  340-345,  363,  365, 
400. 
"  Cyrano  de  Bergerac,"  397. 

Daly,  Augustin,  60,  311,  339,  352, 

353,  372-377,  387- 
Daly,  Charles  P.,  20,  44,  55,  326. 
Daly's  Theatre,  374,  375,  376,  377, 

384- 

"  Damaged  Goods,"  397. 
Dana,  Charles  A.,  201. 
Dauvray,  Helen,  377. 
Davenant,  Sir  William,  3. 
Davenport,  A.  H.,  328. 
Davenport,  E.  L.,  310,  315,  322, 

336-340,  349,  374. 
Davenport,  Fanny,  334-339,  374. 
Davis,  L.  Clarke,  372,  375. 
"  Davy  Crockett,"  388. 
De  Miller  Henry  C.,  382. 
D'Eon,  Chevalier,  42. 
Devlin,  Mary,  315,  316,  328. 
Dibden,  Charles,  16,  42. 
Dickens,  Charles,  282. 
Dietz,  Linda,  374. 
Doche,  Madame,  335. 
"  Doll's  House,"  391. 
Doran,  Dr.  John,  7. 
Douglass,  David,  28,  29,  34,  36, 

37,  40,  66,  76,  98. 
Douglass,  Mrs.  David,  25,  29,  31, 

42,  49. 

Dreher,  Virginia,  63,  375. 
Drew,  John,  62,  322,  374,  375. 
Drew,  Mrs.  John,  328,  339,  374, 

375- 

Duane,  William,  180. 
Duff,  John  R.,  214,  216,  218. 
Duff,  Mary,  210-221. 


402 


Indea} 


LKmiap,  William,  19,  34,  48,  87,  95, 
96,  97,  98,  99,  101,  106/222,  360. 
Durang,  Charles,  89. 
Duse,  Eleanora,  294. 
Dwight,  Pres.  Timothy,  24. 

Ellsler,  Fanny,  231. 

Erlanger,  Abraham  Lincoln,  395. 

Ethel,  Agnes,  381,  382. 

Faneuil  Hall,  82,  83,  84. 

Farren,  Elizabeth,  105,  106. 

Farquhar,  George,  2,  20,  60. 

Fechter,  Charles  Albert,  122,  235, 
280-285. 

Federal  Street  Theatre,  114,  115, 
116,  215. 

Fennell,  James,  118,  173,  174,  175, 
i?6,  359- 

Fielding,  Henry,  86. 

Fifth  Avenue  Theatre,  373,  380. 

Fisher,  Clara,  232,  375. 

Fisher,  Charles,  322,  375. 

Fiske,  James,  Jr.,  368. 

Fiske,  Harrison  Grey,  395. 

Fiske,  Minnie  Maddern,  378,  395. 

Fiske,  Stephen,  298. 

Fitch,  Clyde,  387,  389. 

Florence,  W.  J.,  337,  384. 

Forbes,  R.  B.,  225. 

Ford,  John  T.,  328. 

"  Formosa,"  385. 

Forrest,  Edwin,  173-207,  211, 
225,  226,  227,  228,  310,  315, 
34i,  3So,  35i,  361,  362. 

Fox,  Charles  J.,  17. 

Francis,  Dr.  John  W.,  129,  142. 

Franklin,  Benjamin,  27,  28,  77, 
78. 

French  Opera  House  (New  Or- 
leans), 263. 

Frohman,  Daniel,  377,  378,  380, 
382. 

Furness,  Horace  Howard,  326. 

Gaine,  Hugh,  76,  86. 
Galland,  Bertha,  379. 
Galsworthy,  John,  389,  396. 


Gardiner,  John,  109,  HO. 
Gardiner,  John  Sylvester,  in. 
Garrick,  David,  2,  9,  12-18,  84, 

86,  118,  235,  306,  344,  345,  376. 
Garrick,  Mrs.  David,  2,  16,  17. 
Georges,  Mademoiselle,  190. 
Gilbert,  Mrs.  G.  H.,  374,  375,  376. 
Gilbert,  John,  211,  322,  372. 
Gilfert,  Charles,  361,  362. 
Gillette,  William,  383. 
Godwin,  Parke,  201. 
Goldsmith,  Oliver,  17,  308. 
Gottschalk,  Ferdinand,  379. 
Granger,  Maude,  382. 
Greeley,  Horace,  211,  218. 
Grattan,  Henry  P.,  359. 
Grillo,    Marquis    Capranica    del, 

286. 

Grimston,  W.  H.  Kendal,  380. 
Grossmann,  Edwina  Booth,  315, 

324- 

"  Gustavus  Vasa,"  72,  94. 
Gwyn,  Nell,  7. 

Hackett,  James  H.,  322,  339,  384. 
Hackett,  James  K.,  339,  379. 
Hale,  Walter,  379. 
Hallam,  Beatrice,  49,  66,  68,  69. 
Hallam,  Lewis,  19,  22,  26,  27,  48. 
Hallam,  Lewis,  Jr.,  25,  28,  29,  100. 
Hallam,  William,  19,  27,  81. 
Hamblin,   Thomas   S.,   334,   336, 

363- 

Hamilton,  Clayton,  391. 
Hancock,  Governor,  113,  114. 
Hansson,  Laura  Marholm,  294. 
Hardy,  Thomas,  374. 
Harman,  Mrs.   Catherine  Maria, 

41,  42,  67. 

Harned,  Virginia,  332. 
Harper,  Joseph,  107,  112. 
Harris,  Henry,  123. 
Harrison,  Gabriel,  206,  210. 
Harrison,  William  Henry,  182. 
Hatton,  Mrs.  Anne  Julia,  106. 
Haymarket  Theatre  (Boston),  116. 
Hayne,  Julia  Dean,  337,  347. 
"  Hazel  Kirke,"  382. 


403 


Index 


Hazlitt,  William,  161,  227,  234. 

Henry,  John,  99,  100. 

Herne,  James,  392. 

Heron,  Matilda,  298, 329, 333-336. 

Hind,  Thomas  J.,  Jr.,  322. 

Hodgkinson,  John,  100,  101,  102, 

310. 

Holland,  E.  M.,  382. 
Holland,  George,  362,  374. 
Hope,  Anthony,  378. 
Houssaye,  Arslne,  298. 
Howard  Athenaeum  (Boston),  314, 

333,  337,  349- 

Howard,  Bronson,  382,  383. 
Hunt,  James  Henry  Leigh,  60,  1 20, 

246. 

Hutin,  Mademoiselle,  361. 
Hutton,  Lawrence,  344,  388. 

Incledon,  Charles  Benjamin,  123, 

125. 
Ireland,  Joseph  N.,  211,  212,  231, 

239,  355- 
Irving,  Sir  Henry,  305-309,  323, 

348. 

Irving,  Isabel,  379. 
Irving,  Washington,  221,  224,  329, 

330. 

Jackson,  Andrew,  166,  195. 

James,  Louis,  374. 

Jameson,  Anna,  240. 

"  Jane  Shore,"  8,  9,  215. 

Janin,  Jules,  277. 

Jarrett,  Henry  C.,  302,  328. 

Jefferson,   Joseph,   77,   326,   327- 

332,  337,  365,  370. 
Jennings,  Mrs.,  374. 
Jerome,  Jerome  K.,  389. 
Jewett,  Sara,  374,  382. 
Johnson,  Eastman,  326. 
Johnson,  Dr.  Samuel,  12,  14,  15, 

17,  160,  163,  237. 
John  Street  Theatre,  37,  39,  91, 

95,  100,  355,  387. 
Jones,  Henry  Arthur,  378,  389. 
Jones,  Hugh,  45,  46. 
Jordan,  Dora,  120,  359. 


Kean,  Charles,  122,  129,  136,  138, 

139,  140,  141,  235,  322,  365. 
Kean,    Edmund,    122,    128,    129- 

139,  165,  184,  185,  188,  211,  215, 

234,  359,  370- 
Kean,  Thomas,  21,  27. 
Keene,  Laura,  314,  329,  369. 
Kehew,  Mrs.  Mary  Morton,  324. 
Kelcey,  Herbert,  379. 
Kemble,  Charles,   177,   193,  225, 

233,  238,  239,  240,  241. 
Kemble,  Frances  Anne,  105,  132, 

218,  225,  231,  238-245,  279,  288. 
Kemble,   John   Philip,    120,    122, 

126,  188,  233,  234,  235. 
Kemble,  Roger,  234. 
Kendal,  Madge  Robertson,  380. 
Kennedy,  Charles  Rann,  389. 
"  Kit,    the   Arkansas   Traveller," 

388. 

Klaw,  Marc,  395. 
Knoblauch,  Edward,  389. 
Kynaston,  Edward,  3,  4. 

Lafayette,  90. 

Lawrence,  Sir  Thomas,  234. 

Lawrens,  Henry,  90. 

Leclerq,  Carlotta,  141,  284,  375. 

Leclerq,  Charles,  375. 

Le  Moyne,  W.  J.,  337. 

Lennox,  William  Pitt,   121,   123, 

140. 
Lewes,  George  Henry,  129,  278, 

290. 

Lewis,  James,  63,  374. 
Lincoln,  Abraham,  319. 
Lincoln,  Benjamin,  91. 
Lind,  Jenny,  231,  266,  365. 
"  London  Assurance,"   366,   367, 

37i. 

Longfellow,  H.  W.,  245. 
Lyceum  Theatre,  377,  378,  379, 

384- 

Macaulay,     Thomas     Babington, 

157- 
MacKaye,  James  Steele,  377,  382, 

383,  399- 


404 


Index 


MacKaye,  Percy,  389,  397,  398, 

399- 
Macready,  William  Charles,  119, 

120,    122,    162,    163,    193,    196, 

197, 198, 199,  226-229,  235,  336, 

34i- 

Madison,  James,  127. 
Madison    Square    Theatre,    380, 

382,  383,  384- 

Mallory,  Rev.  G.  S.,  382,  383. 
Mallory,  Marshall,  382. 
Mannering,  Mary,  379. 
Mansfield,  Richard,  378,  382,  397. 
Mantell,  Robert,  377. 
Marlowe,  Julia,  332. 
Martin,  Sir  Theodore,  279. 
Mason,  Edward  Tuckerman,  290. 
Mason,  John,  377. 
Mather,  Margaret,  382. 
Mathews,   Charles,   Sr.,   142-158, 

161,  358. 
Mathews,  Charles  James,  245,  246, 

247,  248,  367,  372,  374. 
Matthews,  Brander,  236. 
Mayo,  Frank,  322,  384,  388. 
McCullough,  John,  205,  285,  297, 

322,  332,  345,  346,  347,  349-35I- 
McVicker,  J.  H.,  320. 
McVicker,  Mary,  320,  321. 
Menken,  Adah  Isaacs,  363. 
Merington,  Marguerite,  343. 
Merry,  Mrs.,  91,  176,  177,  359. 
"  Metamora,"  189,  206,  387. 
Miller,  Henry,  379. 
Mitchell,  Maggie,  248. 
"  M'liss,"  388. 

Modjeska,  Helena,  295-300,  324. 
Montague,  Henry  J.,  372. 
"  Monte  Cristo,"  366. 
Moody,  William  Vaughn,  389. 
Moore,  Thomas,  212,  213,  214. 
Morant,  Fanny,  322. 
More,  Hannah,  17. 
Morris,  Clara,  298,  352~354,  374, 

382. 

Morton,  Robert,  88. 
Moses,  Montrose,  331,  371,  377. 
Mowatt,  Anna  Cora,  278, 336, 368. 


Murdoch,  James  E.,  314,  322. 
Murdock,  Frank,  388. 

Nash,  Thomas,  3. 

National  Theatre   (Boston),  206, 

209,  230,  333. 
Navarro,  Antonio  de,  346. 
Nazimova,  Alia,  294,  295. 
Neilson,  Lilian  Adelaide,  300. 
Newell,  Timothy,  85. 
Niblo,  William,  363. 
Niblo's  Theatre,  363,  364. 

Oakes,  James,  187,  188,  189. 

Oldfield,  Nance,  1-6,  9,  118. 

Opp,  Julie,  379. 

"  Oroonoko,"  74,  75. 

Osgood,  Rev.  Samuel,  315,  316. 

Otis,  Harrison  Gray,  no,  113. 

Otway,  Thomas,  80. 

"  Our  American  Cousin,"  370. 

Palmer,  Albert  M.,  326,  380,  381, 

383, 
Park  Theatre  (New  York),  107, 

124,  129,  165, 176, 186,  192,  216, 

222,  225,  239,  251,  355,  356,  357, 

358,  359,  360,  365,  366,  367,  368, 

386. 
Payne,  John  Howard,    125,   214, 

221-225. 

Peabody,  Josephine  Preston,  389. 
Peale,  Charles  Wilson,  68. 
Pepys,  Samuel,  7,  9. 
Phillips,  Stephen,  389. 
Pinero,  Sir  Arthur,  378,  389. 
Piozzi,  Mrs.   (Mrs.  Thrale),  160, 

161,  162,  163. 
Pixley,  Annie,  388. 
Placide,  Henry,  328. 
Placide,  Jane,  183,  191. 
Placide,  Thomas,  328. 
Players'  Club,  324,  325,  332,  348. 
Plumstead,  William,  27. 
Plympton,  Eben,  322. 
"  Pocahontas,"  387. 
Poe,  Edgar  Allan,  368. 
Porter,  Charles,  179. 


405 


Index 


Powell,  Charles  Stuart,  112,  114, 

116. 

Power,  Tyrone.  225,  250-265. 
Price,    Stephen,    125,    145.    J77» 

217,    247,  360. 
Pritchard,  Mrs.,  237. 
"  Pudd'nhead  Wilson,"  388. 

Rachel,   122,    129,    191,   266-280, 

281,  369- 

Randolph,  Peyton,  66. 
Rankin,  McKee,  382. 
Reade,  Charles,  14,  307. 
Rees,  James,  220. 
Rehan,  Ada,   61,  351,  352,  374, 

375,  376. 

Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  236. 
Rice,  Thomas  D.,  327. 
Rich,  John,  u. 

Richmond  Hill  Theatre,  218,  364. 
Ristori,  Adelaide,  286-289,  324. 
Robertson,  Agnes,  141,  369. 
Robertson,  J.  W.,  380. 
Robertson,  Thomas  W.,  16. 
Robins,  Elizabeth,  389. 
Robinson,  Henry  Crabb,  120. 
Robinson,  Frederick,  382. 
Robinson,  "  Perdita,"  71,  72. 
Robson,  Stuart,  382. 
Rogers,  Katherine,  382. 
Rogers,  Samuel,  15,  235. 
"  Rosedale,"  385,  391. 
Rostand,  397. 
Rowe,  Nicholas,  8,V 
Rowson,  Susanna,  358. 
Ryan,  Dennis,  73,  74,  75,  90. 

Salvini,  Tommaso,  122,  289-293, 

307,  369. 

Sargent,  Franklin  Haven,  379. 
Sargent,  John  Singer,  309. 
Saunderson,  Mrs.,  3. 
Savannah,  71,  76. 
Scott-Siddons,  Mrs.,  374. 
Searle,  John,  358. 
Seaver,  Joel  G.,  219,  220. 
Sedley,  Henry,  209. 


Seilhamer,  George  O.,  19,  20,  34, 

36,  39,  48,  71,  72,  75,  97- 
Shaw,  Bernard,  378,  389,  391,  396. 
Shays,  Daniel,  91. 
Sheldon,  Edward,  389. 
Shelley,  Mary  Godwin,  176,  221, 

224. 
Sheridan,  Richard  Brinsley  Butler, 

76,  235. 

Shepheard,  Charles,  58. 
Siddons,  Sarah  Kemble,  120,  122, 

210,  217,  235,  236,  237,  238. 
Sienkiewicz,  Henry,  297. 
Simpson,  Edmund,  128. 
Sinclair,  Catherine  'Norton  (Mrs. 
Forrest),  194, 199,  200,  201,  202, 
203,  207,  208,  209,  314. 
Skinner,  Otis,  63,  299,  322,  376. 
Smith,  Mark,  322. 
Sothern,  Edward  Askew,  129,  249, 

322,  329,  332,  333,  370. 
Sothern,  Edward  Hugh,  332,  377. 
Southwark  Theatre,  88,  94,  102, 

103. 

Spong,  Hilda,  379. 
Spottiswood,  Governor,  44,  45. 
Stanley,  Thomas,  82,  86. 
Stark,  James,  322. 
Stead,  William  T.,  399. 
Stedman,  Edmund  Clarence,  354. 
Stephens,  Leslie,  164. 
Stetson,  John,  293. 
Stewart,  A.  T.,  272. 
Stoddart,  J.  H.,  382. 
Stone,  John  Augustus,  387. 
Stone,  H.  D.,  170. 
Strong,  Rev.  Paschal  N.,  147. 
Stuart,  William,  329. 
Swinburne,  Algernon  Charles,  363. 

Talfourd,  Serjeant,  193. 

Talma,    Francois     Joseph,     190, 

191,  223. 

"  Tammany,"  106,  386. 
Tarleton,  Colonel,  72. 
Terriss,  William,  323. 
Terry,  Ellen,  141,  305,  307,  308, 

309,  323,  354- 


406 


Index 


Thackeray,    William    Makepeace, 

365,  396. 

"  The  Amazons,"  379. 
"  The  Black  Crook,"  364,  370. 
"  The  Boss,"  386. 
"  The  Climbers,"  392. 
"  The  Colleen  Bawn,"  371. 
"  The  Contrast,"  37,  91-94,  98, 


>  384- 
G 


"  The  Great  Divide,"  386,  388. 
"  The  Little  Minister,"  379. 
"  The  Lying  Valet,"  18. 
"  The  Necessary  Evil,"  397. 
"  The  Old  Homestead,"  370. 
"  The  Private  Secretary,"  383. 
"  The  Recruiting  Officer,"  20,  59. 
"  The  Scarecrow,"  398. 
"  The  School  for  Scandal,"  75,  76, 

372. 
"  The  Second  Mrs.  Tanqueray," 

379,  380. 

"  The  Shaughraun,"  371. 
"  The  Young  Mrs.  Winthrop,"  382. 
Thomas,  Augustus,  389. 
Thompson,  Denman,  384. 
Thompson,  Lydia,  364. 
Thorne,  Charles  R.,  Jr.,  322,  382. 
"  To-morrow,"  386,  397. 
Tompkins,  Dr.  Orlando,  319. 
"  Tom  Thumb,"  86. 
Townshend,  Charles,  17. 
Tree,  Ellen,  122,  139,  140. 
Trollope,  Mrs.  Frances  M.,  251. 
Tyler,  Robert,  363. 
Tyler,  Royall,  37,  91,  92,  98. 
Tyree,  Bessie,  379. 

Union  Square  Theatre,  380,  381. 
Upton,  Thomas,  22,  23. 

Vandenhoff,  George,  121,  129,  208, 

209,  340,  343- 
Vestris,  Madame,  246,  247,  248, 

367. 


Vincent,  Mrs.  J.  R.,  333. 
Vining,  Fanny,  337. 
Violante,  Madame,  10. 
Vokes,  Rosina,  380. 

Walenski,  Count,  279. 

Wallack,  J.  W.,    225,    284,    328, 

365- 
Wallack,  James  W.,  Jr.,  322,  329, 

339- 

Wallack,  Lester,  328,  365,  372. 
Wallack's  Theatre,  368,  369,  371, 

372,384-  •) 

Waller,  Mrs.  Emma,  322. 
Warren,  Sarah  Isabel,  331. 
Warren,  William,  Jr.,  91. 
Warren,  William,  Sr.,  91,  176. 
Washington,  George,   73,  94,  95, 

96,  103,  105,  164. 
Wedekind,  397. 
Wells,  Mary,  322. 
West,  Benjamin,  97,  223. 
Westminster  Abbey,  2,  9,  306. 
Wetmore,  Prosper  M.,  185. 
Wheatleigh,  Charles,  328. 
White,  Richard  Grant,  385,  386. 
Whitelock,  Mrs.,  233,  359. 
Whitman,  Walt,  170. 
Wignell,  Thomas,  91,  92,  93. 
Williams,  Barney,  368. 
Williamsburg,  19,  44~55- 
Wills,  W.  G.,  308. 
Williams,  Fritz,  379. 
Winter  Garden  Theatre,  316,  318, 

320,  369,. 372. 
Winter,   William,    284,   310,   325, 

326,  331, 335, 344,  348,  367,  384, 

385- 

Woffington,  Peg,  9-15,  63, 
Wood,  Mrs.  John,  364. 
Woods,  Mary  Ann  Paton,  121. 
Wright,  Mrs.  Mabel  Osgood,  316. 

Young,  Charles  Mayne,  122. 


407 


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